


Cursed

by Forevermore_Fiction



Series: The Real You [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Abuse, Domestic Violence, F/M, Tragedy, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25572682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forevermore_Fiction/pseuds/Forevermore_Fiction
Summary: What ever came of Henry Bowers and You, his love?The Sequel to “The Real You”
Relationships: Henry Bowers & You, Henry Bowers x Y/N Denbrough - Relationship, Henry Bowers/Reader, Oscar “Butch” Bowers/Reader, Patrick Hockstetter/Reader, Victor Criss/Reginald "Belch" Huggins
Series: The Real You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853302
Comments: 7
Kudos: 37





	1. Derry

\---June 1994---

Life in Derry was never completely happy. The town had a history of terrible things happening, and the misfortune hadn’t missed you. Five years ago, your little brother Georgie had been the first of many children to go missing in broad daylight. The ripple effect that his death had had on your family, and on your mental health, had been enough to knock your world off track. It knocked you right into the path of Henry Bowers.

If you had been any other person, the Bowers boy might have taunted you, or singled you out for your loss. But you weren’t any other person. You were you. And as the next year would show, you were the one thing that kept him at least partially sane.

You watched through the front window as Henry and little Claire played in the front yard. She was learning to ride her bike so Henry was adjusting a screw on her training wheels while she danced around the yard.

After all the events of 1989, with Georgie, with Henry, with Patrick, with _It_ , all you wanted was to settle down. And when you found yourself pregnant, you had never seen it as a curse. It had always been a blessing to you that you had been given the chance to have a child with Henry.

“Baby girl, get me the red ball,” you heard your husband call out to the little girl. Claire called back a sweet little ‘Okay Daddy!’ and went to get the little red ball off the porch.

Henry and you had only had a small wedding, about six months ago. Claire had been the flower girl, your father had walked you down the aisle stiffly, Belch and Vic had stood loyally by Henry’s side, as his groomsmen. Only your parents, Bill, and Butch Bowers had been there in the audience, and there hadn’t been a reception. You and Henry had driven down to Portland for the weekend for the honeymoon, and had spent the night in a hotel, walked The Waterfront, saw a free concert. It had been relaxing, and fun, a nice break from the little one and the stress of life in Derry.

Then Henry and you had to go back to work. Belch had gotten Henry a position at the auto shop he worked at, and you had started working as the receptionist at the shop while you were still pregnant with Claire. It paid you good enough, but Henry made more, and it had just fallen into place that you and Claire ended up moving onto the Bowers Farm. It obviously hadn’t been your first choice, but you wanted your family together, and your parents had refused to allow Henry to live in their home.

You jumped when you felt someone come up behind you and grab at your ass. “Rent’s due…” Butch mumbled, looking out the window with you as his granddaughter ran back to her father and threw the ball to him. “You got that for me, honey?”

“Yes, sir,” you sighed, quickly moving away from him to go into the bedroom that you and Henry and Claire shared, going to your dresser and pulling out the $100 you owed him as rent. You turned and jumped when you realized that he was right behind you.

“A hundred?” he assumed, grabbing the cash out of your hand and starting to count it.

“Yes, sir,” you repeated. He finished counting and looked at you.

“When do I get to… _collect_ the other part of my payment?” he wondered excitedly. You looked down and gulped.

“Whenever you ask me to,” you told him quietly. He grinned, and you felt your stomach flip as he reached forward and grabbed your waist.

“So if I want it right now…?” he continued hopefully. You still didn’t look at him, but nodded.

Being with Butch Bowers wasn’t something that you wanted, not in any way, shape, or form. But letting him have sex with you every few days kept him happy, and it gave you and your family a place to live. For you, it felt like an invasion of your privacy, it felt like he was taking your freedom from you. It felt like he owned you. But you were young, just 21 years old and you felt like this was something that you could handle. Henry and you had talked about this, spent whole nights discussing your situation. And in the end, the two of you had decided that the one-sided affair was a small price to pay in order to give your baby the home, food, and happiness that she needed and deserved.

You heard someone yell and you looked past Butch. He held your waist, and scoffed when your attention moved away from him. He pushed you back harshly onto the bed and you cried out, feeling him shove you back down onto the mattress when you tried to sit up.

“Sir, please—” you started. You heard another yell, this one louder and more distinctively Henry. You both froze and Butch let go of you so that you could run back into the house and look back out the window at your family.

No one was in the yard now, Claire’s bike lay on its side in the grass, and the red ball was nowhere to be found. But Henry was sitting in the road, his back facing you, in front of a car. The driver had gotten out and had his hands in his hair, his eyes were wide and he looked distressed.

But you barely stopped at the window before you ran out of the house towards the situation, praying to God that it wasn’t what you thought it was.

When you got closer you felt your heart drop into your stomach, and you started sprinting towards Henry and the little girl that was laying limply in his arms.

“Claire!” you shrieked, falling onto your knees on the asphalt of the road and touching her face as you started crying. Her forehead and face and clothes were all bloody, and when you went to pick her head up you were horrified to feel that the back of her skull practically folded inwards, covering your hands in hot blood.

“Oh god,” you heard the driver say behind you. “Sh-she just came outta nowhere! I-I didn’t even see the little thing, oh sweet _Jesus_ …”

You looked around, seeing blood all over the road and a dent in the front bumper of the man’s car. You saw Butch on the porch with the phone, hurrying down the steps and across the yard as he talked presumably to the police. Then you looked at Henry. He was just staring down at Claire. It was obvious that he was crying, as his eyes were puffy and red and his face was wet. He looked up at you and you could see how shocked he looked. His eyes wide, his movement rigid. You looked at him for the littlest bit of confirmation that Claire was still alive.

But all he did was shake his head stiffly.

You moved closer to them frantically and reached forward to find a pulse. When you felt nothing you started screaming as loud as you possibly could, wanting something, _anything_ to come and bring your baby back…

Just across the road, probably only five feet from where the motorist had accidentally hit Claire Bowers with his car, the little red ball sat in the gutter. It went unnoticed amongst the reeds and cattails that grew from the ditch, and would be carried away in the heavy rain that night, rolling down into the sewers with the rush of the June rains.


	2. Remembrance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Butch; time jumps, hopefully this isn’t confusing!

\---One Year Later---

Henry sat stiffly on the end of his bed, his forearms resting on his knees, which were bouncing anxiously and angrily.

A year ago today was the day that Claire had died. He had told himself not to think about it, but from the moment he had opened his eyes this morning he had felt the same heaviness in his heart that he felt as his daughter died in his arms, and it hadn’t gone away all day. Not that it had gone away all year...

You and Henry had decided that it would be best to go visit Claire’s grave today to put down flowers and clean up the site. But just as the two of you had been about to leave, Butch approached you and asked when he could get his special payment.

So now he had to listen to the sounds of his father’s bed creaking and hitting the wall in the bedroom next door, the movement getting faster and faster and the noises the two of you made getting louder and louder.

Henry waited in his upset state until the noise on the other side of the wall ceased, then he stood up and started pacing back and forth while he waited for you, checking his watch every few seconds, then minutes…

Finally, after 15 minutes, he walked out of the bedroom and down the hallway into the kitchen to find you. He heard his father’s rare laugh and the clanking sound of bottles being hit together and he shook his head.

He stopped in his tracks and looked at you worriedly as he made it to the threshold of the kitchen. You were pouring yourself a glass of wine with a badly shaking hand, Butch right behind you with a bottle of beer in his hand. Henry’s face turned red as he watched the way his father ran his hand along your waist, the way his hips bumped against yours. It looked like he was grinding on you slightly, and you caught Henry’s eye just as you started draining the whole wine glass in a few big gulps.

Once you set the glass down you just stared at the ground, then looked up at him with a very fake looking smile. Henry hadn’t seen you really smile since before Claire had died. You just didn’t seem like yourself anymore, and it killed him to watch as everyday you let yourself go a little bit more.

“Ready to go?” you asked weakly. He stared at you, then nodded slowly, staring at his Dad as the man backed away from you and leaned back against the counter.

“Are you?” Henry wondered. You hesitated and looked back down.

“M-Maybe you should just go without me…” you suggested. He frowned deeply and watched you start pouring yourself another glass of wine.

“No, you need to come with me, Y/N. We planned this, we gotta clean up Claire’s grave,” he reminded you.

“Well maybe I don’t wanna,” you countered, looking up at him with a childish frown. Just how many glasses of wine had you had in the last 15 minutes…? “I don’t need to be there, it’s not like we’re going to really see her, Henry. She’s dead.”

Henry tensed up. “Yeah, I know that, Y/N, fuck,” he scoffed, watching you start draining the wine glass. You always did this now after Butch has his way with you. You would drink until you passed out, and it concerned Henry to see you like this. With Claire gone you didn’t  _ need  _ to live here anymore. But you stayed with him, and Butch still expected $100 a month and all the sex he wanted.

“So just go without me… I just… I can’t do it, you know,” you said, pouring another glass for yourself. Henry sighed and moved towards you, grabbing the wine bottle out of your hands, stumbling back in surprise of how light the empty bottle was. You scoffed and grabbed your glass, spilling some on your hand as you brought it to your lips to take a big sip.

“I know she’s dead, Y/N. I know it’s not fair and I know it hurts,” he told you, his voice shaking. “But we have to be strong and keep going, baby, this is just one of those steps in a better direction.”

That’s what Belch and Vic had told him when he had talked to them. It seemed to make sense, it seemed like the right thing to say. He had hoped that hearing something that made sense would bring  _ you _ to your senses, but all you did was stare down at the deep red of your wine.

“Jesus Christ, Henry, let the girl relax,” Butch sighed, setting his beer down on the counter and moving forward towards you. He put his hands on your shoulders and started massaging them. You looked a little tipsy, your cheeks red, you stumbled a little as he started rubbing at a knot in your shoulder with his thumb. “It’s been one year since her little girl died. She needs a few drinks, a good shoulder rub…” He rubbed your shoulder so firmly that you stumbled back into him. “Why make her be sad?”

“Yeah, Henry, why do you want me to be sad?” you questioned, your words slightly slurred as you absentmindedly leaned back into Butch’s hands as he continued to work out all the knots in your shoulders. It just felt so good, and you felt so loose and light from the wine, you forgot who it was you were leaning into. You forgot what he wanted with you, you forgot what he had done. You just wanted to feel good, to be happy and relaxed. And he was giving that to you.

Henry watched the two of you with a glare. He had been jealous of this whole situation from the start. And now, you had more sex with his father than you ever did with him— the two of you hadn’t had sex for a whole year, in fact —and you had started spending more and more time alone with Butch recently, drunk and naked in his bed.

He knew Butch thought things were perfectly fine now that you were an adult, 22 years old and consenting to his every wish. But he was starting to suspect that his father thought of this as more than just an agreement… he was starting to think that his father thought of you as his girlfriend, maybe even as a partner who was going to be with him for the rest of his life.

And the worst part was, you were either too dumb or too numb to see it, or maybe you just didn’t care. You gave into him so willingly, as if it didn’t matter that you were starting to forget your oath to Henry, and you were accepting your fate as Butch’s toy for the rest of your life.

“Well fine, Y/N, if you wanna stay here, with my Dad, while I go alone to see our daughter, that’s just fine,” he snapped at you. “I’m not letting her down anymore…” He glared at his Dad and started walking out the door. Halfway down the porch, he heard you call his name from inside the house, and turned as you hurried out the door towards him.

You stared at him for a minute as he walked back over to you then you looked at your feet as you started crying. He sighed and took your hand. “I know, baby, I know…” he sighed.

“I-I miss her, Henry…” you whimpered.

“Let’s go, Y/N,” he said, starting to lead you down the porch to the car. You let him pull you along, stumbling as you went down the steps of the porch. He helped you into the car carefully and kissed your head once you were in, and closed the door.

He got into the driver’s seat and looked at you as he turned the car on. You had your head against the window, and he could see tears running down your face as he started driving out of the driveway.

You were silent for the first few minutes of the trip, then you sighed and looked down as you felt Henry’s hand touch your knee. “I love you, baby,” he told you seriously. He pulled into the parking lot of the flower shop and turned into a spot, getting out and going to open your door for you.

  
You took his hand as the two of you walked through the shop, and he watched you look around at the arrangements of flowers, feeling them and looking somewhere distantly into them. He squeezed your hand and you looked up to him. Your eyes were glossy and red from crying, and you looked terribly sad. It broke his heart to look at you now, you always looked so sad and broken. You would get looks from people in public because of your heavily depressed state, it made you feel sick, and instead you had elected to stay inside more often now… with Butch…

Butch made you feel better somehow, Henry couldn’t figure it out, but you found some twisted comfort in the attention that he showed you. You were usually too drunk to realize that you were overly flattered by his affection. Henry knew it was just a distraction from the pain, but it still hurt to know that he wasn’t the one you went to for comfort…. Of course, that was his fault too...

He hadn’t been fully present in the days and weeks following the accident, all he had wanted was for someone to give him a gun so that he could end it all. But you kept coming to him in bed at night, begging him to hold you and talk with you. He would just ignore you, his back to you and his eyes closed. For the first few nights, he would eventually feel you roll over so that your back was to him as well, and then hear you softly crying until you fell asleep.

Henry had no idea that Butch had caught you with a mouth full of pills the day after Claire died.

He was so focused on the guilt-- because he blamed Claire’s death on himself, of course. Of course it was his fault. He was supposed to be watching his baby girl, and he had failed to protect her from running out into the road. The driver who had hit Claire had been jailed for manslaughter, but had hung himself just three weeks into his sentence.

He thought, at the time, that the best solution would be to wait for you to leave him, then drink himself into a blackout state, break into his father’s guns, point one to his head, and pull the trigger. He had it all planned out, he just needed to wait for you to leave him.

Two and a half weeks after the accident, two and a half weeks of silence, lack of touch and hope in each other… one night, after rubbing at Henry’s back for an hour, trying your hardest to show him that you still loved him more than anyone, and that you hoped he loved you too. Trying your hardest to break him out of his silence with your love for him. You knew if he really loved you, he would want to get through this with you. You tried to tell him this, you told him how much you loved him, how much you missed him, how much you hoped he loved you back and that if he would just tell you that he loved you, you would know that everything was okay…

Henry never moved, never said anything to you. Tonight was the night, he thought. Tonight was the night you left him for good, and never looked back. You finally fell silent, your hand fell from his skin, and all he could hear was your sniffling for a good few minutes. Then he heard the sound of the bed moving as you sat, then stood up. You moved very quietly, but not silently, around the room, opening a few drawers quietly and closing them softly. There was a gentle rustling of clothes then silence. Then he heard you move quietly towards the door. This was it…

“I love you, Henry,” you told him softly, leaning down and kissing his cheek. “I’m sorry I’m not enough for you, sweetheart… I’ll leave you alone… goodnight, I’ll see you in the morning…”

He was confused as he watched you walk out of the room. You closed the door, then he heard a knock on the next door over… his father’s room... 

You didn’t know what was going on in Henry’s head. How could you, he never talked to you anymore… only recently, a year after her death had Henry started approaching you again, telling you that he loved you… you were suspicious, to say the least. All this time you had been convinced that he had fallen out of love with you the moment Claire died, and now he was starting to talk to you again.

That night that you had left Henry alone and knocked on the room next door, your hands had been shaking and you had felt sick to your stomach. Your one true love was shutting you out completely, like he didn’t want you around, and after trying for so long to get him to tell you  _ why _ he was doing this to you… you finally couldn’t take it anymore. You needed someone to let you talk to them, maybe to hold you and give you some kind of contact...

Butch had been surprisingly respectful of you during the last two weeks, not coming to you to ask for his time alone with you, leaving you alone almost completely. Before the accident, you would have appreciated this, but now, you felt all alone. After the funeral, it was as if you were the only person left on Earth. You quit your job at the shop and started spending your time at home. During the days, Henry and his Dad were at work so you were left alone at home with the laundry, the dishes, the cleaning, the cooking… and you did it, because now you couldn’t pitch in the $100 a month. But even as you set the table for dinner, it was like you didn’t exist. No one would talk to you. No one would look at you. No one would touch your hand or your knee lovingly. You all ate dinner in silence, Henry would finish first and would go right back into the bedroom. Butch would bring his own plate to the sink, thank you for the great dinner, and go to his room.

That one little compliment, that one spark of contact drew you towards him rather than Henry, and that’s where the idea started. You decided, that if Henry truly had fallen out of love with you, you would see if Butch would start to give you attention again…. You knew it was the lowest thing to do, but with the amount of wine you had been drinking lately, you didn’t care about standards, all you wanted was for someone to love you and give you their attention, to distract you from Claire… to tell you they would be there and that everything would be okay.

Two and a half weeks later, you came to the conclusion that Henry didn’t  _ want _ to be that person for you… no matter how much you tried to tell him you loved him and needed him, he wouldn’t even respond to you. It made it seem like he didn’t care… and that’s what you came to believe…

So that night you got dressed in your nicest lingerie, covered by a soft, short silk robe and had gone to Butch Bower’s door, asking him if he wanted to sit with you and have a few drinks.

“Daisies,” you said softly, lifting up a small pot of the innocent little flowers. “She loved these…”

  
Henry watched you look at the flowers, then looked at you, and he remembered all those days that he had left you alone, had waited for you to leave him. What an idiot he had been, what a coward…

“Yeah, she did,” Henry agreed. “Let’s get these and go to the grave.” You shivered but nodded and walked to the cash register with the flowers.

As the two of you got in the car, you chanced a glance at him, which he saw and looked over at you. You hesitated, then looked away. “Thanks for buying the flowers,” you told him gently. He gulped and nodded. He started driving towards the graveyard, and after a few minutes you both turned to speak. “I’ve been thinking—”

“Y/N—” he said over you. He stopped when he heard you start talking and he cleared his throat. “You first, my love.”

You felt your heart drop as he called you the sweet nickname, and you forced yourself to remember what Butch told you about Henry that night, a year ago…

Butch had brought you downstairs to the barely finished basement and had poured you a huge glass of wine before popping the top off his beer bottle. You sat on one side of the old couch against the wall, and he sat on the other. The way his legs were spread made it hard to not bump knees with him, and every time you touched you felt a little more of yourself falling out of place.

“You poor thing, look at you,” Butch sighed as he shook his head. “You’re really fallin’a pieces ain’tcha? You said you wanted to talk, what’s on your mind?” He watched you start drinking the wine, and sat back on the couch as you started talking.

“Henry won’t talk to me… he won’t even look at me,” you told him. It felt good to have someone listen to you. Even if it was  _ him _ . “I-I need him more than ever now, and it’s like… it’s like he doesn’t want me around anymore…”

“Maybe he  _ doesn’t _ want you around,” Butch suggested. You frowned deeply so he continued. “He’s always been the type to go off and hide by himself when somethin’ bad happens. He probably just wants to be alone.”

“But I’m his wife,” you reminded him. He shrugged.

“He’s a child,” he retorted. “He don’t put you above himself, Y/N, you know that right? He’s only out for himself.”

“Not anymore—”

“No, he is,” he cut you off. You hesitated. “He wouldn’t be livin’ here if it weren’t for you. He wouldn't be workin’ if it weren’t for Huggins, everything he’s got somebody else handed him. He don’t work hardly for nothin’, all he does is sit on his ass and let you take all the hardship.”

You thought about this. Then you gulped. “Has he ever… said anything to you? About me? Did he ever talk about me before we were together? Did you know he liked me?” you wondered, not sure which question you really wanted to ask.

“Henry and I don’t really talk, sweetheart…” he reminded you. You shrugged and looked down. “But I did listen in when his friends came to pick him up once. They was talkin’ all about you and how he’d gotten laid.” You blushed. “Other than that I don’t think he even knew you existed before you started dating…”

You looked down and hugged yourself. “What about recently…?” you wondered. “Have you heard anything?”

“Well… the other night when you went to dinner with your parents, Henry and I did have a little chat,” he admitted, raising an eyebrow as you sat up quickly. “He had a little too much to drink, and I wasn’t in any better of a state. But we got to talkin’ about you, and I was sayin’ how lucky he was to have you, and he said you were gonna leave him soon. I don’t know what the hell he was talkin’ about, but he kept sayin’ how he couldn’t figure out why you wouldn’t just leave him. Like he was waiting for you to make the move…”

“The move…?” you questioned. He sighed and shrugged.

“Y/N, I think Henry wants a divorce,” he told you. You blinked and shook your head.

“No…. Henry and I love each other,” you insisted. He sighed and rolled his eyes. You crossed your arms. “What, you think love isn’t real?”

“Oh I know love is real. I was in love with my Maggie. I knew I loved her the moment I saw her. I knew I was in love with her when I saw her walking down the aisle towards the altar.” He sat back and looked up at the ceiling, thinking back to his wedding day and smiling sadly. “I really fucked it up with Maggie… and I know Henry saw that, and I think he wants you to leave before it’s too late, and the same thing happens to you.”

Everyone knew that Butch had beaten Maggie Bowers almost to death one drunken night about 10 years ago. You shivered, thinking back to the times Henry had hit you. Because he had. He had given you a black eye, he had left bruises all over you from grabbing you, he hadn’t been particularly gentle in the beginning. But now he wouldn’t lay a hand on you, you knew it.

“The same thing won’t happen to me, because Henry loves me,” you told him certainly. He just stared at you until you realized that he had loved Maggie, and had still hurt her. “And he wouldn’t hurt me anymore…”

“Do you hear yourself?” he wondered. You turned red and stood up, setting your wine glass on the table. “What, now you’re mad just because I’m right?”

“You aren’t right. He won’t hurt me. He just needs time alone…” you argued, going back to what he had originally said.

He groaned in frustration. “Y/N, he  _ told _ me he’s just  _ waiting _ for you to leave him!” he told you in annoyance. You looked shocked and he sighed. “Do you trust me now? I wouldn’t lie to you, ‘n I know a lot more than you’d think.”

You frowned and sat down on the couch again. “Say I do trust you…. did he say anything else?” you wondered. “D-Did he say why, o-or—”

“Nope. His exact words were somethin’ like: ‘I just can’t stand it anymore, she won’t leave. Why won’t she just leave?’,” he told you. This wasn’t entirely true, there was a lot of drunk, mumbled talk about how much he loved you, and how he had failed you and Claire, all that shit. But Butch didn’t think that was important or relevant to the situation. Besides, you weren’t getting the message anyway… for a book smart girl, you sure had a thick skull…

“S-So he actually… wants  _ me _ to leave  _ him _ ?” you asked, letting that sink in as Butch grunted in approval and continued.

“Said he’s almost got the money for an apartment, he thinks about three months out,” he said, taking a long sip of beer. You just stared at the table for a minute, silent. Henry always carried cash, he refused to get a credit card, but he also saved in cash. So you never knew how much he was saving… you knew it was a fair amount but… he was three months from getting an apartment? Why wouldn’t he have told you that, unless…

“H-He wants me to leave him…?” you questioned out loud in disbelief, picking up your wine glass and starting to gulp it down as big tears started running down your cheeks. You set the glass down again and wiped your nose. “I-I don’t understand, he wanted me to leave him so that it wouldn’t be like he left me?”

“Maybe… to tell you the truth, I think he would be gone already if he had the money, sweetheart,” he sighed, looking at his almost empty bottle and draining it before setting it on the table. He watched you do the same with your wine glass, and he leaned forward to pour you another glass. You started to protest, and he looked up at you. “You just lost your daughter. Your husband’s unresponsive. You look exhausted, and stressed, you need to relax…” He topped off your glass and handed it to you. “You need to just relax, and drink a few glasses of wine, and forget about everything…”

That did sound nice, you thought. It couldn’t hurt to have another glass of wine. You deserved to loosen up a little bit and relax. You took the wine glass and brought it to your lips.

“Y/N?” Henry asked you, and you were brought back into the present. You looked up at him and sighed, thinking of how you wanted to say this. “Tell me, baby, what’s wrong?”

You took a shaky breath and closed your eyes. “I’ve been thinking a lot over the last year,” you told him carefully. “I love you more than anything on this earth… and I understand that you don’t want this relationship to continue, and I’m sorry I’ve held this off so long…”

“Wait, Y/N, no,” he started.

“Henry, listen, this has been a long time coming, neither of us have really  _ talked _ about it, but you made it clear. You want me to go… or you want to leave, one way or another, you want to separate and I just wanted you to know that that’s okay…” you continued quickly. He pulled into the road of the graveyard and you sucked in a breath.

He stopped the car in front of Claire’s grave and you both stayed silent, not looking at it. “Y/N,” he said quietly. “I don’t want this to be over. I never wanted this to be over…” He looked over at you. “I mean… if you moved on I get it… you just tell me what you want and we’ll figure it out.”

You felt your heart drop a little. “Henry your Dad told me what you said to him… about wanting me to leave…” you told him. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back in anger. “It’s okay, Henry, I understand… you could do so much better than me…”

“Y/N, I thought I weren’t never gettin’ married before I met you,” he mumbled, glancing at you shyly. “Havin’ a  _ wife _ ? A  _ family _ ? That was never in the picture for me… I guess I just figured I weren’t a  _ family _ kinda guy… I figured nobody would ever love me…”

“Henry…” He looked over at you quickly then looked down and shut off the car.

“Come on,” he sighed. “Let’s put the flowers down.”

It took you a minute to go around the car to the gravestone, but you slowly made your way over to where Henry was waiting solemnly. “Someone left flowers,” you pointed out quietly, walking closer and falling to your knees in front of the grave.

Henry quickly moved forward and grabbed your shoulder before you could fall over, and he carefully knelt down behind you, to your left. “Baby…” he said sadly, seeing that you were crying and holding the flowers to your chest.

“These are for you Claire…” you whispered, setting the flowers down on the grass in front of her grave. You didn’t know what else to say, so you looked back at Henry as you started crying, and jumped into his arms so that he could hold you as you started sobbing. He held you tightly, and sat back on the grass, letting you curl up and cry against his chest.

He should have done this from the start, he thought to himself. He never should have pushed you away, he never should have left you alone with his father the way he did. After everything you’d been through, he let you go off and seek out his Dad as comfort. All his Dad did for you was twist the truth and give you copious amounts of alcohol. And use your body once you were drunk enough not to care. And then you drank more to try and numb yourself to the knowledge that you had let Butch take advantage of you. It was a cycle, it happened again and again, it had every night for a year. And all he could think that this was all his fault.

“If you wanna leave, Y/N…” he started sadly, rubbing your shoulders as you cried against his chest. “I mean, like… if you want to leave me, and get divorced--”

“I don’t,” you insisted, looking up frantically. “I don’t want that, I want  _ you _ .”

“I want you too…” he agreed, feeling himself tearing up. “But… I can’t take care of you, you know that, right? A-And we can have another kid someday and all, but… I just want you to know, Y/N, I’m not a good husband, and I’m not a good father, and I don’t want you to feel… tied down to me…”

“You were amazing with Claire,” you argued, looking at her grave sadly. “She loved you…”

“And I let her get killed…” he pointed out. You frowned and sat up, looking right at him.

  
“Henry, what happened to Claire wasn’t your fault…” you told him seriously. He looked down and shrugged. “It wasn’t. Have you been… have you blamed yourself this whole time?”

“It’s because’a me, Y/N! If I’d just been watchin’ her…” he trailed off and shook his head.

You sat up and turned to look at him. “We promised each other we’d be together, remember? That’s the oath we made the day we got married…” you told him seriously. He glanced up at you. “Part of spending our life together is talking. Talking about the pain, about the things that scare us…”

“I dunno if I can tell you what’s in my head, Y/N…” he sighed, looking behind you at Claire’s grave. “You won’t like what I have to say.”

“You can tell me anything, Henry,” you promised him. He looked down at you and you smiled sadly. “Tell me, sweetheart, what’s going on?”

He hesitated, then sighed. Then he started telling you everything. About wanting to kill himself, about how jealous he was of his father spending time with you, about how he hadn’t slept well in a year because of his nightmares.

And you cried, but listened to him, and held onto him tightly. “Y/N… I think I was really gonna kill my Dad that day… back in ‘89...” he finally admitted. You stared at him worriedly, but smiled sadly. “No, no really, I was gonna kill him… I could feel it, I wanted him gone so bad, I was gonna stab him, make him bleed…”

“Henry…” you said softly. He looked at you again. “I tried to kill myself… the day after Claire…” You sucked in a shaky breath and looked at her grave. “I found Butch’s heart pills and I put them all in my mouth…. if he hadn’t come in and forced me to spit them out...”

“Fuck, Y/N…” he sighed, hugging you. “You and those damn pills…”

You laughed lightly and snuggled up against him. It felt good to smile, to talk to him. “I don’t blame you for wanting him dead… sometimes I wish I hadn’t stopped you,” you admitted. He looked down at you in surprise. “I knew you wanted that all along… you’re a killer, Henry… you always have been.”

“I ain’t killed nobody… ‘cept Claire….” He stared at her grave and you saw tears form in his eyes. “I let her die, Y/N, I-I looked up and I saw the car, and—”

“You couldn’t stop it,” you insisted. “It was an accident. It all was…”

Henry didn’t respond, looking down at you again. “I’m ready to try again for you… I’m ready to be a married couple and get our own place, and move on with our lives…” he suggested. “I want that with you. I don’t wanna live with my Dad anymore, I want it to just be us.” You hesitated and looked at the little gravestone, not sure if you could move on. “I got the money we need to move out… been workin’ my ass off all year so I could get first and last month's rent and all that shit. We just gotta find a place and get the fuck outta there…”

You hesitantly looked at him and smiled weakly. “You’re sure that’s what you want? To be with me?” you questioned. He blinked and moved back a bit.

“That what you want?” he countered. You gulped and nodded. “Of course I wanna be with you, Y/N… you’re the only thing I’m sure about…”

“I’m sure about us too,” you agreed. He carefully stood up, and you stood up with him. “I just… I don’t know if I can move on from her…”

“Me neither…” he said nervously. “But we gotta. If we wanna be together, we gotta forget all this and move on…”

You looked back at her grave one more time, walking over and putting your hand on the cold stone. You felt his hand on your shoulder, and you closed your eyes, then turned around and looked at him. “I’m ready,” you told him certainly. “I’m ready to move on from this with you.” You walked back up to him and took his hand. “Let’s go, babe…”

He smiled slightly and leaned down to kiss you gently. You immediately relaxed and reached up to cup his cheek in your hand as you kissed him back. “Are you mine, Peach?” he wondered. “Just mine?”

“Just yours… forever,” you promised him. You both smiled slightly, feeling your love for one another rekindling, and starting to burn bright in your hearts.

Henry led you to the car, opening your door and closing it again once you were in the car. You watched him get in on the driver’s side and you took his hand as he turned the car back on and started driving away.

You stared at your daughter’s grave through the side mirror until other graves and trees started covering your view, and then you looked at Henry, who smiled just slightly when he felt your gaze on him.

Everything would be okay, you thought. You were going to move out with Henry, and be a happy married couple, and maybe have another baby someday. Everything was going to be fine.

You just knew it.


	3. A New Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: HOMOPHOBIA! Please be aware that this IS A HENRY BOWERS FANFIC, so he is in character. I’m not sugar coating this guy; alcoholism; natural bad parenting

\---Thirteen Years Later: 2008---

“Noah! Sky! Dinner!” you called to your children. You glanced over at Henry where he already sat at the table, and gave him a warm smile.

Noah and Skylar had been the miracles that you hadn’t known you needed. When Noah was born in 1998, four years after Claire’s death, it had been the happiest time of your lives. And when Skylar had been born the year after, Henry and you had considered yourselves the luckiest people in the world. Not only were you  _ finally  _ independent and living in your own apartment, but you had a happy family together, at last.

Henry had been so overjoyed and proud to have a son. He had raised him with care during the early years, terrified of something awful happening, but had soon eased up when he realized that everything would be okay. Noah was his big tough guy, and he set high standards for the boy at an early age to be better than his father, and himself.

Skylar was Henry’s little princess. He treated her like royalty, giving her nearly anything she asked for, and praising her for her beauty, her attitude, and her spunk, all of which she had inherited from him. Sky took after Henry, her little ski-slope nose and harsh blue eyes like a mirror of her father. Noah took more after you, but his blue eyes and sandy blond hair were all Henry.

Things weren’t perfect, but they were good, better than they’d ever been. You and Henry were happy to have your family, to be away from Butch, to be together. And almost ten years after having your second child, you felt more mature and happy than you’d ever felt.

“Mumma, Noah took my doll!”

You turned and looked at eight-year-old Skylar, as she ran into the kitchen with her almost ten-year-old brother behind her with a Barbie doll. “No, Mom, she just passed it to me, I didn’t do anything!” Noah insisted defensively.

“ _ Yeah _ but now he won’t give it back!” Sky pressed.

“Alright, kids, that’s enough. Noah, give the doll back,” Henry spoke up, sounding annoyed. He stood up from the dinner table and walked over to his kids. Both of them immediately shut up, and Noah gave the doll right back to Skylar, who smiled triumphantly. “You should know better than to play with dolls, kiddo, come on…”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Noah apologized.

He ruffled his son’s hair. “Are you gonna join the football team this year, Noah?” he asked hopefully.

“Do I have to?” Noah asked nervously. Henry sighed, shrugging and looking at Skylar.

“Well, Sky is gonna join dance, isn’t she?” Henry pointed out. Skylar hesitated.

“I wanna do soccer,” she corrected him. Henry raised an eyebrow. “I wanna play soccer like the other girls!”

“Your friends play that? Well… okay, if it’s what other girls do…” he agreed. “See, kiddo, your sister’s playin’, you gotta play football.”

You looked back at your family and hesitated. “We’ll talk about this later. Go ahead and sit down, everyone,” you instructed. “Dinner’s ready!”

“Yes, Mumma!” Both kids hurried over to the table and Henry smirked, walking over to you and hugging you from behind.

“Mumma, what’s for dinner?!” Skylar questioned loudly. She had always been more straightforward and honest and loud than Noah, taking after Henry in her aggressive and blunt nature.

“Yeah, Mama, what’s for dinner?” Henry whispered before nipping at your ear and subtly rubbing up against you. You smiled brightly and cuddled back against him.

“ _ Babe _ ,” you hissed, making up plates of tacos for everyone and watching Henry warily as he let go of you and went to the fridge for a beer, grabbing a bottle and popping it open on the fridge door.

He walked over to the table again as he took a drink, and sat down at the head of the table. “Sit still, Noah,” he demanded.

Noah paused as he shifted back and forth in his chair, looking at his little sister who was bouncing up and down in her chair and playing with her fork. “Daddy can we go outside after dinner?” she begged. “ _ Pleeeease? _ ”

“Anything for you, princess,” he agreed. Noah stared at him, then looked at you as you came over with dinner. You set the kid’s plates down first, then got you and Henry’s plates and set them down in your spots. You sat next to Henry and looked at Noah who was seated at the other head of the table.

“Noah can go out with you, right?” you questioned hopefully. Henry raised an eyebrow.

“Speak up for yourself, buddy,” he instructed.

Noah blushed and cleared his throat. “Can I go outside with you and Sky, Daddy?” he asked sheepishly. You gulped, looking at Henry.

“Of course, Noah,” he agreed. “See what standing up for yourself can do? If you don’t ask, you won’t get what you want.”

“Yes, Daddy,” your son mumbled.

“And talk louder, no one listens to a man who talks quiet,” Henry sighed. You touched your husband’s knee and he glanced at you with a slight smile. “Let’s eat, kiddos.”

As the four of you started eating, Skylar continued bouncing in her chair, and Noah sat almost completely still as his father kept his eye on him. You knew Henry wasn’t trying to be a jerk, he just had high expectations of his son. He wanted Noah to be better than he was, he wanted to be a better father than his own father.

“What’d you want for your birthday, Noah?” Henry spoke up with his mouth full. You watched him warily, then looked at Noah. Noah smiled innocently.

“I want the Sears Tower LEGO set!” he told his Dad excitedly, hoping that his father would finally take a liking to his building with the little toys. Henry just chuckled and glanced at you. “But it’s okay, Uncles Vic and Belch said they were gonna get that for me.” 

You paled and looked at Henry. He took a sip of his beer and licked his teeth once he swallowed. “No they ain’t. And I don’t want you talkin’ about those fags,” he snapped. Noah looked confused.

“What are fags?” Sky wondered innocently.

“Skylar, don’t—” you began to correct her.

“Vic Criss and Belch Huggins are fags. Means they kiss each other and touch each other and think they’re in love like me and Mumma,” he scoffed, sounding disgusted. It was still so fresh, his ex-best friends having broken the news to him that they were partners only last week. “You see those two, you spit in their faces and tell ‘em their goin’a hell, got it?”

“Henry,” you tried.

“Uncles are goin’a hell?” Noah asked nervously.

“They ain’t your Uncles. You call them faggots from now on,” he instructed. You glared at him. “What? Our kids need to learn that them butt-fuckers are nasty pieces’a shit.”

“Yeah, Mumma, they’re bad,” Skylar agreed obediently, wanting to do anything to make her Dad happy. “We call ‘em faggots, like Daddy said.”

“Skylar, you don’t  _ ever _ say that word,” you scolded her. “That’s not something good little girls say.”

“My good little girl would say it,” Henry argued, glaring at you. “Don’t fuckin’ take their side, Y/N, I’m still pissed that you kept that shit from me. You  _ lied  _ to me, don’t forget that.”

“I kept it secret so you didn’t  _ kill them _ ,” you hissed. The kids were staring at you and you sighed. “Let’s just change the subject. Okay?”

“Fine.” He gulped down the rest of his beer and got up to get another one. You watched him and sighed.

It wasn’t easy being with Henry sometimes, given his aggressive nature and his skewed politics. You wanted to teach your children good morals and how to treat people right. You wanted it to be okay that they had gay family friends… but Henry had just ruined that.

It didn’t help that he was an alcoholic. It wasn’t that he drank all the time, but when he drank… he drank too much. And since finding out that his best friends were in love with each other, he had started drinking every day…

“Kids, it’s time for bed,” you instructed as you watched Henry start downing his second— or third? —beer in a row. Noah looked nervous, and Skylar pouted obliviously.

“Mumma, Daddy was gonna take us outside,” she reminded you.

“Tomorrow, sweetheart,” you promised. She looked disappointed, but followed her big brother as they brought their plates to the sink. “Good girl, now you two go right to sleep, no staying up.”

“Mumma,” Noah said quietly. You looked at him, then followed his gaze to his father, seeing that he was still drinking, staring into space as he worked himself up. You gulped and hurried over to your kids. “Mumma what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine, you two just need to go to sleep, okay?” you insisted.

“Will you read us a story, Daddy?” Skylar begged. Henry didn’t answer, still staring off angrily. “Daddy—”

“Not tonight, princess. Mommy and Daddy need to talk,” he explained shortly. You quickly led the kids to their bedroom and kissed them goodnight before closing the door.

Skylar looked at Noah as he started whimpering. “Nosey, stop it, you’ll make Daddy mad!” she hissed.

“He’s already mad,” he pointed out, sounding heartbroken. “We can’t see Uncles Vic and Belch anymore…”

Skylar looked confused, then huffed. “Yeah, they’re faggots,” she insisted. “Just like Daddy said, Nosey.”

“Y/N!”

They both jumped as they heard their father yell, then they heard you hurry off to the kitchen.

You walked over to the kitchen and started working on the dishes as Henry started pacing. It had taken a lot of work to calm him from last week, and seeing him so angry made you anxious.

“So you think our kids know what to do now?” he snapped at you. You jumped and turned the sink off to face him. “They should know the truth, that Vic and Belch are homos, you can’t hide it from them like you did from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything from them. I just want them to know that being gay is okay,” you tried.

He stopped and raised an eyebrow. “But it isn’t. It’s illegal for a reason, Y/N,” he scoffed. “You’re an idiot if you think my kids are gonna think that shit’s okay. They’re gonna treat fags like Vic and Belch the way they deserve to be treated, like  _ shit _ .”

“You aren’t some high school bully anymore,” you pointed out. He rolled his eyes. “You need to start acting like an adult and looking at the world more maturely.”

“ _ I _ need to act more mature?” he laughed. “Who the fuck kept shit from me since fucking  _ high school.  _ We’re married, we don’t keep secrets!”

“I had to, it wasn’t my secret to tell…” you tried.

He thought back to a week ago as he shook his head. It had been absolutely ridiculous, he thought, glaring at you as he remembered.

Vic and you had been talking as you both worked in his garden. Henry hadn’t been able to hear you from where he sat on the porch with Belch. They were both drinking beers and watching their loved ones the way they always had since high school.

Henry was watching as Vic said something that made you laugh out loud. He smiled and sighed. “I wouldn’t want this with anyone else, y’know? She’s a great mom, a great wife… when’re you gonna get hitched, Belch? Have a few brats, finally stop living’ that bachelor life… although we never quit the bachelor life, now do we?” He laughed at his own joke and elbowed his friend before sipping his beer.

Belch hesitated, looking quickly towards, then away from, Vic, then smiling a little. “I’ll settle when the right one comes along, I guess,” he made up calmly. Henry chuckled and looked at Vic.

“What about Crissy? He still a sissy?” he scoffed quietly. “Still ain’t gotten a girl has he? What the fuck, is Vic a virgin?” Henry looked at Belch. “You know him better than anybody, you’re his roommate, he ever gotten laid?”

“No… he ain’t ever fucked a girl before,” Belch said honestly. Henry looked at their skinny brunet friend and clicked his tongue onto the top of his mouth. “He just wants to wait for the right person, just like me.”

“You gotten laid before, you fucked my wife twice,” Henry teased. Belch blushed. Henry looked at Vic again and thought. “Maybe he’s gay.”

“Henry—”

“I’m serious. Look at him, he’s dressed like a pansy,” Henry pointed out. Vic was dressed in a pair of jeans and a v-neck tee shirt. Belch didn’t see anything ‘pansy’-like about Vic’s outfit, other than maybe the green gardening gloves.

“I don’t think so,” Belch argued. Henry looked at him. “He just looks like normal Vic to me.”

“Yeah, and normal Vic’s a fag,” Henry pressed. Belch gulped as Henry stood up. “I’m tellin’ you, I been thinkin’ about this for a while now. He ain’t ever got no girl, he dresses like a gaytard, he cuts his hair like that now…” He was, of course, talking about Vic’s brunet, combed back style, cut short on the sides. “Maybe we oughta get on him... corner him and make him confess…” He looked towards Vic again. “And if he turns out to be a fag, we’ll deal with him… I gotta piss….”

Belch watched him walk passed before going inside, and he stood up, his heart feeling like it was about to jump out of his chest. He hurried over to you and his lover and you both looked up.

“Reggie, what’s the matter?” Vic asked worriedly. “You look pale, are you sick?”

“Henry knows your gay,” Belch whispered. Vic looked taken aback and stood up. You stood too, and watched them. “I don’t know how, but he’s onto ya. What the fuck do we do?!”

“Maybe we should tell him,” Vic suggested quietly. Belch looked horrified. “I mean… we’ve been together as long as they have— longer! I think it’s time, don’t you?”

“I dunno, he’s gonna kill us,” Belch argued. “He’ll kill us, Vic…”

“I don’t know, maybe Vic’s right…” you tried softly. “The longer you hold it off, the angrier he’ll be… at all of us…”

Belch and Vic stared at each other. Then you all turned as Henry came outside. He stared at you all in confusion, starting to come down the stairs. Vic stood up and you followed him, watching him walk towards his best friend.

“Henry… we need to talk to you,” Vic told him nervously. Henry raised an eyebrow and looked at Belch, who already looked like he was going to be sick. You put a hand on his shoulder before starting to walk towards your husband. Henry looked confused, and turned to walk inside with Vic.

As the four of you got inside, you sat Henry down at the head of the table and pulled a chair to sit by his side. He was starting to seem agitated, clearly anxious that something bad was about to happen. Which it was.

“Henry…” Vic started, sitting across the table from him. Henry grunted in response. “Um…. Reg?”

Belch was standing across the kitchen, biting his nails. He jumped when Vic said his name, and walked to his side. “Vic and I… we gotta talk to you about somethin’. It’s wicked important…” he rambled, not wanting to say it. He looked at Vic.

“We don’t want you to be mad,” Vic added. “You’re our best friend.”

“Yeah,” Henry agreed. “And? What’s so important?” Vic and Belch looked at each other. Then they both looked at you. You hesitated and nodded your head. “Can someone just tell me what the fuck’s going on?”

Belch finally sat down next to Vic, his legs shaking anxiously. Vic took a deep breath. “Reg and I are together,” he admitted quickly.

Henry didn’t respond right away, trying to rationalize this in his head. “Right…. like… you live together…” he guessed.

“No, Henry, like…” Belch started, not able to finish. He looked at Vic, who smiled sadly. He put his hand over Belch’s gently.

“We’re a couple, Henry,” Vic corrected quietly. Henry’s brow furrowed and you put your hand on his knee. He shoved it off.

“What?” he questioned. “The fuck are you talkin’ about, Criss?”

Vic gulped and looked at Belch for help. Belch was completely pale, looking at his partner quickly before looking back at his best friend. “Um… well…” he tried weakly. Henry was starting to look angry. “Me and Vic love each other. Have for a long time…”

Henry’s face started turning red. “How long’s a long time?” he growled. “What the fuck are you even talkin’ about? That’s bull, Belch, you ain’t even gay!”

He stood up so quickly that his chair fell back, and you jumped. “Henry…” you started.

“ _ No,  _ I want you to say that to me again, just one more time,” Henry snapped at Belch. “Say you fucking love each other one more time.”

Belch was shaking badly, and looked at Vic. Vic gulped, sensing that this was going in a bad direction. “We’re in love, Henry, we have been since high school—”

“ _ High school _ ?!” Henry yelled, his voice cracking. You all tensed up. “Wait wait wait, so you’re tryin’a tell me that you two have been… wait—”

He came around the table and grabbed Vic by the collar. Vic looked shocked. “Henry, look—”

“You been fucking each other too, huh?” he asked angrily. Vic didn’t answer immediately, so Henry threw him to the floor. Belch stood up and Henry marched over to him. “Tell me this is some big joke! Tell me you’re fuckin’ with me, Belch, you gotta be  _ fuckin’ joking! _ ”

You watched him shove Belch back into the counter as Vic carefully got up. “Henry, calm down,” you attempted.

“Belch,  _ tell me this is a joke! _ ” Henry screamed, ignoring you. Belch shook his head and Henry reeled back to punch him in the face. You and Vic gasped, and Belch barely flinched but stared at Henry with tears forming in his eyes. “Tell me you’re joking!”

“It ain’t a joke, Henry. Me and Vic are really—” he explained.

“Gay for each other? You’re a butt-fucker, Belch, is that what you’re tellin’ me?” Henry cut him off. Belch was unsure of how to respond, so he just kept opening and shutting his mouth. “This is…  _ this is… _ !” He backed away from him, his chest rising and falling quickly as he looked back and forth between them with rage. Vic hurried over to Belch without a second thought and grabbed a paper towel from behind him to start dabbing the cut Henry had left on his cheek. “I mean, I was starting to think you were a fag, Criss, you little pussy!”

Vic looked at him, and gasped when his arm was grabbing and Henry yanked him over, twisting his arm behind his back and grabbing his hair.

“Henry,” he tried calmly, only for Henry to turn him and knee him in the face. He whimpered out loudly, and Henry yanked him back upright so he could spit in his face.

“You fuckin’ liars, you fuckin’  _ lied to me _ !” Henry screamed, pulling Vic’s hair so hard that the younger man cried out in pain.

“Henry, stop it,” Belch demanded, although his voice quivered and he didn’t make any move to stop him as he threw his partner to the floor again.

“You stupid faggot, you turned him into a queer!” Henry accused Vic. Vic looked terrified, and you quickly moved forward to pull Henry back. He shoved you back violently and as soon as you were on the floor behind him, he started kicking Vic in the stomach, over, and over, and over again. You got up quickly, screaming for him to stop.

Finally, Belch stepped forward and grabbed Henry, throwing him into the table. You gasped, but hurried over to Vic, helping the crying man sit up, and looking angrily at your husband.

“You can do whatever you want to me. But you don’t put your hands on Vic,” Belch told him angrily. Henry still looked furious.

“I  _ trusted _ you! You were my best friends, I-I let my fuckin’ kids sleep over here!” Henry spat at him, standing up straight and punching him in the face again and again. “You were my fuckin’ family!”

Belch let him punch him over and over again. He knew he deserved it after keeping this from Henry for so long. But he couldn’t help but stay angry about Henry attacking Vic. So he shoved him back again and took a shaky breath.

“We wanted you to still be our friend, Henry. But now you gotta go, and I ain’t want you back here till you apologize for what you did to him,” Belch told him with a shaking voice. Henry scoffed and clenched his fists.

“Fuck you. Faggot deserved it, so did you,” he insisted. He looked at you, where you were crying next to Vic. “I’ll talk to you about this later, Y/N. We ain’t stayin’ here with these disgusting people.” He watched you get up slowly and walk over to him. He grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the door. He turned around one more time before leaving and glared at Belch and Vic, as the larger man knelt down to help his sobbing partner. “Your lives are fuckin’  _ over _ . By tomorrow, the whole town’s gonna know about you two bein’ fags, and you won’t be able to go out without gettin’ killed! Just wait till I tell my Dad!”

With that, he had dragged you out to the car and had sped the two of you home.

Your gentle hand on his cheek brought Henry back to the present, and he frowned angrily at you. “Henry, they still love you—” you tried as Henry turned around, not wanting to look at you. “Baby…”

“You let our  _ kids _ near them… you knew, and you put your trust in them to watch our fuckin’ kids, Y/N,” he growled, feeling betrayed.

You couldn’t understand where he was coming from. Vic was both of yours best friend, and Belch had always been there for Henry. How could he turn on them so violently, so quickly? It just didn’t make sense.

“Henry, they didn’t do anything wrong,” you attempted weakly.

“Oh yeah? They fuck each other, ain’t that fuckin’ gross to you?!” he snapped. You shook your head. “Well it should be! You’re an idiot, Y/N, if you think I’m in the wrong here!”

“You  _ are _ wrong, Henry—”

“You let me be friends with two flamers! You kept that shit from me for fuckin’  _ years _ !” he screamed at you. You immediately shrunk back as he turned and glared down at you. “You  _ kept _ that from me! You  _ lied _ !”

“I-I know I did, I’m sorry,” you tried. You gulped and shook your head. “Please, Henry, it just… it wasn’t my place to tell you—”

“Right. It was _them._ It was _them_ that forced you to lie to me, your own husband!” he insisted, nodding and grabbing you. “It’s a Goddamned sin, and they roped you into believing that they had our best interests at heart. Fuck, it’s no wonder Noah’s a little sissy, the kid looked up to them! They were his fuckin’ heroes, _not_ _me_! And you let that happen!”

“I know, I-I’m sorry,” you said again, starting to get scared as he reached forward and grabbed your arms tightly.

“Now look at us! Those faggots thought they could worm their way into our lives. Fuck ‘em! We’re done with ‘em, Y/N, I don’t wanna see you near ‘em, I don’t wanna let the kids near ‘em—”

“The kids won’t understand,” you attempted weakly.

He scoffed. “They will. I was about Sky’s age when I first saw a fag. You know what my Dad did? Gave me a rock, and told me to throw. Told me to call that sick bastard out for what it is: a fucking disgrace, and a pussy. We ain’t lettin’ our kids grow up thinking that men can kiss men, we ain’t lettin’ ‘em think ‘two boys can love each other just like Mommy and Daddy’— no! It’s bullshit, it’s disgusting!” Henry ranted at you. And you just nodded, not knowing how to argue with him. “You understand? Do I gotta keep talkin’a ya about this shit, or do you get it? The kids stay away from ‘em, you stay away from ‘em. Got it?”

Your lower lip trembled but you nodded, and he sighed heavily, pulling you into a tight hug. “I ain’t lettin’ ‘em fags tear our family apart. We gotta be harder on Noah, and we gotta teach ‘em right…” he insisted, sounding more calm now. “I’m gonna protect you, all’a you’s, no matter what. Got it?” You nodded again, and he kissed your head. “I love you, Y/N…”

“I love you, Henry…” you agreed, although you were trembling and starting to cry. You were going to lose the only friend you had… and Henry was going to lose his. All because he was afraid of something that didn’t exist…

You looked up at him when he moved back, and he sighed. “Let’s just go to bed, honey. We can finish the dishes in the morning,” he suggested, already starting to bring you to the bedroom. You looked back at the dirty dishes and gulped, following your husband to bed.


	4. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS CHAPTER, IT IS EXTREMELY DARK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, AND INJURY, Alcoholism, sociopathy, homophobia, Henry is a scumbag pretty much, so is Butch

Henry had told his father about Vic and Belch the day after talking with you. His father, being on the police force and all, had gotten word out quickly, and anonymously.

You had wanted to protect them. That was why you hadn’t told Henry in the first place. You begged him to just keep it between he and you, but within the next week, Belch’s precious Trans-Am was vandalized, the windows smashed in and the word ‘FAG’ spray painted on it’s sides. People started throwing rocks in through the windows of their home, and Vic stopped going out in public, and Belch lost his job at the auto shop. They lost their house that month after he lost his job, and had to move in with Belch’s Mama, who kept them in separate rooms out of fear of what her son was.

You didn’t mean for any of it to happen, you wished you had convinced the couple to keep their secret. You had been the one to say it was time, and now their lives were ruined…

You didn’t see them again for six months, when one day you took the kids out with you grocery shopping. You were surprised when you saw Vic out at the shop as well, having known that he was hiding himself away. Belch was by his side, ever his protector, and when they saw you with the kids they lit up.

“Y/N,” Belch greeted happily. You were nervous, to say the least. Henry had made it clear that you and the kids weren’t to go near Vic and Belch. But you knew how ridiculous that was. “It’s been so long.”

“Hey, kiddos,” Vic said to Skylar and Noah. Noah looked overjoyed to see his uncles again, but Skylar was glaring them both down.

“What’s wrong, Sky?” you asked, when you saw your daughter giving them the dirtiest of looks. “Sky—?”

“Daddy don’t want us to talk to them, Mumma,” she reminded you. Vic and Belch looked saddened to hear this. “We’re gonna get in trouble.”

You sighed. “Mama’s gonna get in trouble, Sky. Don’t you worry, you’ll be okay,” you promised. You looked back at Vic and Belch, and gulped. “I’m so sorry… about everything…”

“It ain’t your fault, Y/N… this day was gonna come one way ‘r another…” Belch pointed out sadly. He glanced down at little Skylar, still giving them that hateful stare. “How are they? Doing well in school and stuff?”

“Yeah,” you agreed halfheartedly. You were worried about them. Everyone who passed by gave them a dirty look, just like Skylar was. They seemed to be ignoring it, but you couldn’t help but feel sickened by the thought that they couldn’t live their day to day lives anymore. “They’re good. What about you two?”

They looked at each other, then Vic sighed. “We’re moving out of Derry next week… we can’t live here anymore, we’re not welcome,” he explained. You gave them a heartbroken expression. “Movin’ down towards New Hampshire… people are nicer to people like us down there…”

“You mean faggots?” Skylar scoffed. You all looked down at her in shock. “You’re both faggots!”

“ _Skylar_ ,” you gasped. “Don’t _ever_ say that!”

“Why? Daddy told us, if we ever saw ‘em again, spit in their faces and call ‘em what they are,” she argued, sounding angry. “You’re both goin’a hell!”

“Skylar Sharon Bowers, that’s _enough_ !” you snapped. She looked up at you in surprise, knowing that if _you_ were angry, and saying her full name, she must have done something really wrong. Her eyes filled with frustrated tears, but she shut her mouth. “These are our friends. They’ve been with us for so many years, it doesn’t matter that they love each other, they’re good, kind people, and they love you. You need to treat them with _respect and love_.”

“Yes, Mumma,” Noah said nervously. You reached down and touched your son’s face.

“Not you, love. You didn’t do anything wrong,” you pointed out.

“I’m just doin’ what Daddy said to,” Skylar tried to defend herself.

“It doesn’t matter, it’s _wrong_ the way you just treated them. How would you feel if someone who you loved called you horrible names and said you were going to hell?” you pressed. Her face reddened and she looked down. “Now say you’re sorry, and you best well mean it!”

Skylar gulped, looking up at the two men with tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry…” she whimpered. “I-I’m just doin’ what Daddy said… I-I’m sorry…”

“You’re just like your Daddy, Skylar,” Belch sighed, reaching down and carefully patting her head. He had known this little girl since she was born, and her brother next to her. Belch and Vic had been there through everything, through all of your’s and Henry’s bad times, through the births of your children, almost your whole lives together.

And Henry was so willing to just throw that all away… he had been the one, ultimately, who had outed them and was the reason they had to move away. You would never see Belch or Vic again….

“I know,” Skylar said, perking up. Vic and Belch both smiled sadly. “My Daddy’s the strongest, and the smartest, and the best, and I’m gonna be just like him when I grow up!”

Vic looked a little tearful, and he looked towards you, a serious expression on his face. Belch looked at his partner and sighed, kneeling down on one knee in front of Skylar. “Your Daddy might be all those things, little Sky. But don’t ever let yourself get stuck with him. He ain’t all that… You go with what your Mama says, she’s a smart woman. She’s gonna raise you right, and you’ll learn that there are better things in life than him.”

You had no idea what he was talking about now, and you touched Skylar’s shoulder, pulling her a little closer. Belch glanced up at you then stood up. “Your birthday’s comin’ up, Noah,” Vic spoke up suddenly. You and Belch both looked at him. “Want anything special, bud?”

“Can you come to my birthday?” Noah asked, sounding nervous and hopeful. They looked at each other again, then down at him. “I’ll even ask my Dad to go away for a little while so you can come!”

“You’re my God-son, Nosey, you know me and Uncle Vic would love to be there, but….” Belch started. “Your Daddy already said no, he said we can’t see you no more.”

“We don’t want this, Noah,” Vic said, sounding about ready to cry. “Not being able to see you kids is one of the hardest things we’ve ever had to do.”

“We love you, kids,” Belch agreed. You smiled sadly, trying not to cry. Noah looked extremely sad, and began crying softly into his sleeve. “We’d better go, Y/N…”

“Yeah, we should too,” you agreed, holding your kids close to you. “I’m so sorry, Vic… Reg…”

“We can’t ever forgive him,” Vic explained quickly. You gulped but nodded. “We know you’re… we know you love him, Y/N, we just hope you’ll be safe…”

“I will,” you said quietly, looking down. “Good luck on your journey…. be safe… if you ever need me, you know I’ll help you in a heartbeat, either of you.”

“Thanks, Y/N…”

They both smiled weakly, then looked down at the kids with that smile before starting to walk away. Your kids both watched sadly. “Mumma, will we be able to see them again…?” Skylar asked. You felt a few tears fall onto your cheeks as you saw your friends go through the checkout and then leave the store.

“No, sweetheart,” you sighed.

“Why?” she pressed.

“Mumma, are you _ever_ gonna see them again?” Noah asked tearfully. You hugged your son close and held your daughter’s hand.

“No…” you said softly. “No, we probably won’t ever see them again, Noah…”

“Why, Mumma?” Skylar questioned again. You looked down at her.

“Because Daddy said so…” you admitted honestly, starting to lead them forward with your shopping cart again.

**\---**

When you got home from the store, you could hear the TV on in the living room. As if it weren’t odd enough that the TV was on with presumably no one home, but it was on far too loud. You frowned and opened the door, holding the kids behind you and motioning for them to wait in the hallway. You let the door shut behind you, and you looked in towards the living room, thinking that at this time Henry must be at work. To your surprise you saw him in the living room, sipping a beer and looking at the TV.

“Baby, you’re home?” you questioned, looking at him in pure confusion. “Don’t you have work?”

“Boss had a’mergency, had to closssse up the shop early,” he explained. He didn’t even look up at you so you knew it was a lie. And the way he was slurring his words… he was clearly drunk, he must have gotten home hours ago, before you got the kids from school and brought them to the grocery store, at least. “Where’re the kids?”

“I-I’ll get them…” you stammered nervously. You backed away, then set your grocery bag on the kitchen counter and went to open the door to let the kids in. They looked confused. “Daddy’s home…” Skylar’s face lit up, but Noah just looked even more confused. She ran inside and set her bag of groceries on the floor, then ran into the living room, right into her Daddy’s lap.

Henry kissed Skylar’s head. “How’sss the store, pumpkin?” he slurred.

Noah put his bag of groceries in the kitchen next to yours then started putting them away. You closed and locked the door and turned to walk back to the living room, freezing when you got into the entryway. Skylar was whispering in Henry’s ear. He had tensed up visibly and looked up at you with an angry raised eyebrow.

“Henry—” you started.

“ _Shhh_ , Sky’s tellin’ me what y’did, Mumma…” he frowned. “Tell me that part again, little Sky, what did he say?”

You stood completely still, feeling your heart hammering in your chest. Skylar seemed to finish, and looked at you nervously. “Mumma doesn’t need to be in trouble though,” she tried, quietly. “She just don’t want me bein’ mean, Daddy, she said we ain’t never seein’ them ever again.”

“Why don’ you ‘n Noah go t’your room fer a few minutes,” he ordered, standing her up and standing up himself. She looked nervously at her father, his anger practically radiating off of him. “Now!”

Noah was still in the kitchen, putting away the groceries, and he jumped when his father shouted. He quickly looked at you, and you nodded immediately, watching him run past his father. Henry was moving towards you now, and you still stood completely still.

“Daddy?” Skylar said behind him. He turned around, and pointed his beer bottle at her.

“Follow your brother to your room, Sky. I gotta deal with Mommy,” he said sternly. She trembled slightly, then nodded and hurried after Noah into their bedroom. You didn’t hear the door shut.

“Henry,” you tried again. “They just wanted the kids to know that they still loved them—”

“You think I’d be okay with that?” he pointed out with an angry laugh. He got right up in your face and you stared at his chest.

“Henry, please…” you whimpered.

“You know how fucking awful my life is, why not make it worse, right?” he scoffed. “I fucking got laid off! _Y/N!_ ”

“What?!” you gasped. “H-Henry, how? What happened?”

“It’s the _fuckin’_ economy, just like my Dad said! Said there wouldn’t be work for nobody no more! And my boss said he weren’t gettin’ enough business, and with his top mechanic gone…” He sneered as he was reminded of Belch. “And now you gotta come home and make shit worse! You do this shit on purpose, I swear….”

“Henry, they just wanted to say goodbye to the kids before they leave,” you explained. “And if it makes you feel any better, Skylar did exactly what you told her to, called them _faggots_!” He looked mildly shocked that you’d said the word, then he licked his lips.

“Oh yeah, they skippin’ town?” he questioned. “When? Gotta pay ‘em a visit before they take off.”

“Why? So you can beat them?” you guessed. “I don’t know, soon. I don’t want you seeing them, if we can’t see them!”

“ _Oh,_ but we can _break_ that rule, can’t we?” he growled, suddenly grabbing your throat, his teeth together in a sneer. You gasped and grabbed his hand as he yanked you closer to him. “We don’t gotta listen to Henry, do we? We can go around breakin’ rules if we don’t _like_ ‘em!”

“ _Henry_ ,” you choked, feeling your eyes tear up.

“You’re so lucky I don’t…” he started mumbling. He licked his lower lip, and all he could see was red.... he couldn’t make out your face anymore all he could see was red, hot anger all around him. Red, like the balloon...

He then brought his fist back and punched you in the right side of the head and face, twice.

You cried out as loudly as you could with his hand closing your throat, and tried to move away from him. “ _Help_!” you squeaked, unable to truly yell for help. He stumbled as he tried to hold you in place, and he fell over the coffee table drunkenly. You broke free and stumbled back, holding your ringing ear and pounding head as you cried. You felt like your throat was on fire too, and you were dizzy. You stumbled again, then your vision started getting a bit blurry. “H-Henry….”

“You fucking’ break my rules, you gotta pay!” he defended himself, struggling to stand up, pulling up his jeans and watching you fall onto your hands on the couch, then lay yourself down. “You said you understood, you fuckin’ lying bitch!”

“I’m… sorry?” you whimpered, not entirely remembering what he was talking about anymore. “Henry, my head…”

“Yeah, well—!”

He took a breath, and saw that you were starting to bruise where he had hit you… oh, _fuck_ …

He looked back and saw both Noah and Skylar practically out in the hall, probably having witnessed everything…

“Fuck,” he swore loudly, going over to you and lifting you up. “Don’t worry, kids, Mommy’s fine.”

“Mumma’s head’s purple,” Skylar whimpered, sounding truly horrified. “Mumma?!”

“Get in your damn room,” he demanded. They both jumped, and Noah quickly pushed his sister into the room, now shutting the door. “Alright, look, I’m sorry, Y/N…”

“You hit me… _really hard_ ,” you said weakly, leaning the left side of your head against his arm as he carried you to the bedroom.

“Look, I’m _sorry_! I-I lost control for a second, I didn’t mean to!”

You groaned at the volume of his voice, and you whimpered. “Henry, why’d you hit me?” you questioned. He chose to stay quiet now. “What the _fuck_?”

“This wouldn’ta happened if you’d just stayed away from those queers,” he scoffed. You stayed quiet, starting to remember something about Vic and Belch now. “I wanted you to get it through your damn fuckin’ head, Y/N, that’s all, I didn’t hurt you too bad.”

“I think I have a concussion,” you told him. He scoffed. You gagged, and he hesitated, carrying you quickly to the bathroom. He set you carefully on the floor and helped you stay up as you threw up. Henry tried not to watch you, but had to hold you up as well.

“You might gotta concussion…” he admitted. “I’m sorry, baby…”

You groaned in pain and wiped your mouth. “Just take me to bed,” you pleaded. “Please, it’s too bright in here…”

He sighed and wiped your mouth with a wash cloth, helping you stand up to rinse your mouth out. You then fell into his arms and let him carry your limp body over to the bedroom.

“Y/N, you know I’d never hurt you,” Henry insisted. He set you down on the bed and turned your head slightly to see your bruised head. He winced, seeing that most of the right side of your face was purple and red. “And you know I’d never hurt the kids…”

“I know, Henry,” you agreed deliriously. He stared down at you sadly.

“So… so you won’t tell anyone about this, right?” he pressed. You got yourself to focus on him long enough to frown and hold your head in your hand. “Y/N, come on, you know it was an accident. I ain’t like my Dad, okay, I weren’t thinkin’—” He trailed off when you started nodding off, and your head fell to the side on the pillow. “Y/N…?”

“I just can’t… I can’t keep my eyes open….” you told him. “I-I think I need a doctor…”

“A doctor?” he sighed. “Y/N… okay, fine, but we gotta figure out how this happened, you know?” He started biting his thumb nail. “You slipped down the stairs and hit your head? Or maybe you tripped and fell on the sidewalk while you were taking the kids to the park…?”

You listened to him, horrified that he wasn’t taking you right to the hospital. “Henry…” you whimpered. “I need to go to the doctors, _now_ …”

He hesitated still. “Stay in bed, baby, I’ll go talk to the kids,” he instructed, hurrying out of the room. You felt yourself passing out, you didn’t know how it had taken this long for you to lose consciousness, but you finally lost all vision and your head fell to the side.

Henry opened the door to his kids’ room quickly and ran in, seeing them cowering in the corner. “The fuck are you two so scared about?” he asked nervously. Noah held onto Skylar and whimpered, so he pointed to the ground at his feet. “Boy, over here, now.”

Noah looked at his younger sister, then moved forward slowly until he was in front of his father. “Daddy, Sky said you hit Mumma…” he said.

“What? _No,_ no!” he lied quickly. He looked back at Skylar. “Sky, why’d you say that, baby? You saw what happened.” Sky looked terrified and confused. “Mumma got dizzy and fell over, hit her head on the counter… right, Sky?” Skylar didn’t know what to do. Her Daddy was always right… but she had _seen_ him punch you… was she supposed to lie? “Sky…”

She jumped. “Y-Yeah, Mumma hit her head on the counter,” she lied for him. Noah looked at her in fear, then looked at Henry. “Daddy, is she gonna be okay?”

“Well now, Daddy’s gonna take ‘er down to the hospital and make sure she’s alright,” he explained heroically. Skylar smiled naïvely, walking towards her father so that he could hug her and Noah. “Anyone asks what happened, I don’t wanna hear that I hit your mother. I ain’t like your grampy…”

Henry stood up and kissed Skylar’s head before hurrying out of the room to go get you. “Daddy—” Skylar called. He turned when she ran after him and jumped into his arms. “Daddy, I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay, pumpkin, you did good,” he prided her. She nodded and he put her down as Noah came out and watched his father go collect you from the bedroom. They both started crying when Henry carried you out, unconscious and limp. “She’s okay, kids, everything’s okay! Noah, watch your sister!” Without another word, Henry ran out of the apartment and out of the building with you in his arms. He ran all the way to the car and lay you down in the passenger seat, buckling you before hurrying out to the driver's seat.

“Henry…” you whimpered. He froze and looked over at you. “Henry, what happened?”

He sat completely still, then licked his lips and started backing out of the spot. “You started gettin’ dizzy… fell over and hit your head on the counter,” he told you calmly. You groaned and touched your head.

“Are you taking me to the hospital?” you guessed. He smiled and touched your knee. “Baby, the kids…?”

“Noah’s watching Skylar, I’ll call them once the hospital takes you in,” he assured you.

He couldn’t believe how quickly he’d sobered up, given the accident and all. That’s what they would call it, the accident. It had been an accident after all… he hadn’t paused and thought about the consequences against the gains of punching his wife in the face… it had just… happened.

“You’re such a good husband…” you said weakly, touching his hand on your knee. “Thank you, Henry…”

Henry gulped and glanced at you before smiling. “Y/N, I ain’t no good husband… do you remember me telling you I got let go?” he risked bringing up.

“What??” you gasped, looking at him. You blinked, dizzy, then started crying. “Oh…. w-we can’t afford to go to the hospital, Henry, let’s just—”

“You sure?” he questioned hopefully. “I know, I think we’d be better off taking care of this at home, anyway…”

“I’m sure I just need some ice and I’ll be as good as new…” you told him, sounding weak and tired, but cheerful. He smiled, feeling guilty… but not too guilty.

“Yeah, babe,” Henry agreed, making a quick U-turn to go back to the apartment. “We’ll just tell the kids the doctor said you’re okay.”

“And that Mommy needs to rest for a few hours…”

“Or days, as much time as you need, love,” he pressed, feeling his anxiety increase. “Let’s go ask my Dad to take a look at you, he knows a concussion when he sees one…”

“Your Dad…?” you asked wearily.

“Don’t worry, I gotta talk to him about what happened,” he explained, detouring to his childhood home. He hesitated before putting the car into park. “Just stay here, baby, I’ll be right back.”

He ran towards the house, knocking on the door and waiting. Butch opened the door, looking older, and more bloated than you remembered him looking. You started passing out again as Henry and his father started talking.

“What’d you do?” Butch asked with a scoff as he saw you passing out in the front seat. “You get her high?”

“No Dad, I… look, let’s just say she hit her head, I think she’s gotta concussion, but I don’t wanna take her to the hospital, so, I need your help…”

Butch stared at him, glancing over at you. “So you finally smacked her silly, huh?” he chuckled. Henry froze. “Don’t play dumb, I know a battered woman when I see one. Bring her inside.”

Henry nodded and hurried down to get you. He was worried that bringing you here was a bad idea, but what other choice did he have? “You’re gonna be okay, baby, my Dad’s gonna take a look at you,” he explained with a sad smile. You smiled at him and cuddled your injured head against his arm.

He brought you inside and and Butch directed him to lay you on the couch. “Hey, sweetie,” he grumbled. He started to move your head around so that he could study your injury, and he hummed. “Heard you took a tumble…”

“Yeah…” you agreed nervously, trying to watch him but having a hard time keeping your eyes open. “Henry said I looked really dizzy then I fainted and hit my head on the counter.”

Butch grumbled something to himself. “You don’t remember?” he chuckled. “You hit yourself real hard, huh?” You nodded your head carefully, and he sighed. “That’s a concussion, no doubt about it. Just keep it iced, and get some bedrest for a few days, you’ll be good as new…”

“Thanks, Dad,” he said as Butch glared at him. There was an awkward silence, then he cleared his throat. “I got laid off, Dad…” Butch licked his lips then laughed. “Just found out today…”

“You idiot,” his father laughed. “How you gonna raise two kids and support your wife when you ain’t gotta job, you dumbass?! Don’t you think you can come to me and expect money! I’m retiring next year, I don’t got no extra money for grandkids!”

“I ain’t askin’ for money, Dad,” Henry denied with a sigh. “I’m just… all I’m sayin’ is, we might not be able to live where we’re livin’ much longer…”

“Oh, great, so you wanna take over my house again, right when I’m about to retire? You think I want your little brats around?”

“Look, we hate to do this, but I ain’t lettin’ my family be homeless. You know if there was any other way—” Henry attempted to explain.

“Bullshit, you thought you were a big man, but you can’t even take care of your damn family,” Butch taunted him. “You think you can worm into my life again, boy?”

“Butch…” you said quietly. He hesitated and looked down at you. “Henry and I will pay you whatever we can… I’m gonna get a job, and we’ll all be out of your hair before you know it.”

He grumbled. “You better pay me well, Y/N,” he agreed, sounding reluctant. “I’m gettin’ fucked whenever, and wherever I ask.”

You looked at Henry, who nodded enthusiastically. You felt a bit hurt but cleared your throat. “Yes, Butch… whenever and wherever you ask,” you agreed.

“And times are hard, $300 a month,” he added, still sounding angry.

“Yessir,” Henry said with a sigh. “Thank you, sir.”

“Shut up, this is between me and Y/N,” Butch told him, glaring at his son. “You’re useless, you can't give me shit.”

“I’ll be paying your $300 a month, that’s not useless,” Henry pointed out, crossing his arms. Butch rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, right, like you’ll find a job,” his father scoffed. You started blacking out again. “Bring your wife home. Start looking for jobs, both’a yous. You do _everythin’_ in your power to keep your place, cause you’re gonna be in hell if you gotta live with me…”

“Yessir…” you mumbled, your eyes falling closed.

Butch watched this. He reached forward and you could feel his rough hand on your cheek. “Poor girl… you oughta be more careful with her, Henry...” you heard him mumble, before you lost all consciousness.

Henry was shocked that he his father had said his name. “I-I know, sir, I don’t know what I was thinkin’...” he agreed honestly. “I-I just… she was just…”

“Oh I know. I know she was bein’ a bitch and an idiot. I know her well enough,” he sighed, still looking down at you. “But you don’t wanna be stuck payin’ child support. Or stuck raisin’ two brats.”

“No…” he admitted shamefully.

“I mean, Jesus, she might deserve a slap every so often, but a concussion?”

“It weren’t on purpose!” Henry started to defend himself. Then he sighed. “Listen, let me get her out of here, and I’ll keep in touch, okay?”

“Whatever,” Butch agreed, standing up straight and moving away from you. Henry moved to pick you up and Butch grabbed his arm, yanking him back and making Henry look at him in shock. “You listen to me, boy. You thinkin’ you’re gonna be livin’ here is a joke. The second someone sees her face, you’re gettin’ arrested.”

“Why? She hit her head on the counter?” Henry pointed out. Butch narrowed his eyes.

“You think this is funny, don’tcha? The only reason I didn’t get arrested with your mother’s cause I’m on the force. And the whole force knows what a scumbag you are, they place bets on when you’ll get arrested.” Henry paled. He didn’t know that… he barely got into trouble anymore, the most he did was shoplift and he’d never gotten caught for that, not even by _you_ … of course he occasionally got drunk in public with Belch…

“Look, she talked to those faggots after I told her not to, she had to fuckin’ learn,” Henry snapped. Having reminded himself of his ex-best friends, he yanked his arm away from his father angrily, and lifted you up quickly. “I’ll have her talk to you about everything…”

With that he hurried out of the house and out to the car. He set you in the passenger seat and looked up to see his father staring at you both from the porch, a beer in his hand.


	5. Spiral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Abusive relationships

“Hey kids, open the door!”

Henry struggled to open the door to the apartment when they arrived, as you were out cold in his arms. He kicked it to get the kids’ attention, and turned to look behind him as he heard one of the neighbor’s doors open.

“What happened, is Y/N okay?” the neighbor asked worriedly, seeing you in his arms, unconscious. He could definitely see the bruising too, because his eyes widened. “Jesus, Bowers…”

“Why don’t you mind your own damn business, Dave?” Henry snapped back. Dave blinked and looked at you again.

“Should I call the paramedics?” his neighbor offered.

“Jesus Christ, Dave, you think I ain’t called ‘em already?” he lied quickly. “Fuck off!” Dave scoffed, but looked back at you again. “I’m warnin’ you, man, drop it.” The other man shook his head slowly before backing into his apartment and closing the door. “Fuck…”

“Daddy?”

Skylar opened the door and gasped when she saw her mother. “Daddy, is she okay?” Noah asked worriedly, looking at you from behind Skylar. “Daddy, why is she not awake?”

“Shhh, Mommy’s sleeping,” Henry said quietly. “That’s all. The doctor said she needed to rest for a few days, but she’ll be alright.” He moved into the house and the kids followed him after closing the door. He brought you to the bedroom and lay you down in the bed gently, pulling your favorite blanket up around you. You stirred slightly and groaned. “Let’s go tuck you guys in, it’s time for bed, I need to stay with Mommy while she sleeps…”

He quickly led the kids to their room and helped the kids into their respective bunks, Noah on the top, Sky on the bottom, and tucked them in individually. “Daddy, she’s really okay?” Skylar asked. “You… she hit the counter real hard…”

“She’s okay,” he insisted. “Just needs some ice and some rest for her head. She’ll be good as new before you know it.”

“They didn’t keep her at the hospital?” Noah inquired nervously.

“No, Noah, that’s why she’s home,” Henry snapped. Noah blushed and nodded, turning over in his bed so that his back was to his father. Henry sighed. “Goodnight, kids… I promise, everything’s fine…”

He kissed Skylar’s head, then hurried out of the room. Noah sobbed quietly. “Did Daddy really hit Mom?” he whispered. Skylar didn’t respond. “Sky…?”

“Didn’t you hear Daddy? She hit her head,” Sky snapped at him. He sniffled and turned over again.

“B-But you said—”

“I was lying. Daddy would never hurt Mumma,” she insisted. Noah didn’t respond now. “Noah—”

“You promise?” he pressed. “It was an accident?”

Again, Skylar didn’t say a single thing.

\---

Henry opened the door to the bedroom, and you felt your eyes open. You hadn’t really realized that you were awake… you took a shaky breath and started crying in pain.

“Baby, everything’s okay,” Henry hushed you, closing the door and hurrying over to his side of the bed, getting on and moving close to you. “I’m here, everything’s okay…”

“Henry, wh-what happened…?” you sobbed. He looked at you nervously.

“What do you remember, honey?” Henry asked quietly, holding something cold to the side of your head, where it was bruised.

You gulped and tried to think. But your head was pounding and you couldn’t keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know… I…” you whimpered. “We were at your Dad’s…?”

“Okay… and?” he pressed. He was afraid that he may have really hurt you. What if you had to go to the doctor…? “Honey, do you remember the accident? You fainted and hit your head on the counter?”

“I…” you started. Then you sucked in a breath. “...No… no I don’t remember….” You leaned closer to him. “Why were we at your Dad’s?”

“Because… because we can’t afford the hospital bill…” he admitted, becoming quiet. Your brow furrowed. “I got laid off, Y/N…”

You gasped and sobbed. “Oh god… oh my god, Henry…” you said, starting to remember those details. “Oh my god, we have to live at your Dad’s house with him….”

“I’m sorry, baby…”

“He’s gonna rape me… like I’m his whore,” you continued, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Henry, there has to be some other way…”

“Your parents live in Florida now, my Dad’s the only family we got,” he pointed out. “Unless you wanna ask your little brother for money….”

You sucked in a breath, thinking of Bill. He had grown up just like you had, but his path was more successful. He was a bestselling author, living in England with his wife Audra, who was a movie star.

You hadn’t heard from Bill since a little after he got out of college and moved out of state. That was back in 1998, when Noah was born. He sent a card when Skylar was born, but that was it. You hadn’t even been to his wedding.

“Henry?” you questioned weakly. He looked at you, worried that you were upset. “Will you protect me from him…?”

“We agreed…” he reminded you. You hesitated then began crying. “I’m sorry, Y/N, it’s what we have to do, for our kids…”

You cried for a few seconds, then sniffled and smiled sadly. “Yeah… we have to do it for our kids…” you agreed.

You both stopped when you heard a firm knock on the front door. Henry looked at the clock. 11:06PM. Who would come this late…?

“Maybe they’ll just go away….” he hoped, holding you. After a few seconds, there came another knock. “Fuck… I… I guess I’ll get it…”

“Just stay in bed, baby…” you sighed, starting to fall asleep against him. So he laid still.

And then there was a knock on your bedroom door.

You both sat up, although you did so much more slowly. Henry quickly got up, setting down the now half-frozen bag of peas that he had grabbed to hold against you head. He opened the door quickly and looked down when he realized that it was Skylar.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked nervously, thinking that she had been woken up by the knocking on the door.

Sure enough, her worried face looked over to the front door quickly before looking back. “Um… the police are here, Daddy… they say they wanna talk to you and Mumma…” she told him, almost silent with fear.

Henry’s face paled and he looked quickly out to the front door, which was open, and he could see a male and female officer outside. “The police?” he heard you question in shock, starting to get up at a weak, snail’s pace. “Oh my god, what happened?”

“I dunno, Y/N, I didn’t do shit,” Henry quickly defended himself. Although he quickly hid behind the door frame and took a deep breath. “Baby just stay in bed, okay? I’ll just… I’ll see what the fuck they want…”

You hesitated as you pulled your shirt down and you sat on the bed. “Okay…” you agreed obediently.

Henry took another breath and stood up straight. “Skylar, go back to bed, honey, everything’s okay,” he lied, touching her shoulder as he walked out to the front door. She hurried towards her bedroom, and he glared at the cops. “Can I help you?”

“We got a call about a possible domestic violence assault at your residence,” the male cop— Johnson, his name tag said —explained seriously. Henry gulped, but his eyes narrowed. “We’d like to talk to you and your wife.”

“It’s 11 o’clock at night, my wife’s sleeping,” he snapped. “My kids were sleeping too. And so was I thank you very much.”

“We don’t mean to disturb anyone, we just need to follow up on this report,” Officer Johnson explained, short in his tone. “The report states that there may have been some substantial injury, we need to speak with your wife now.”

“My wife had an accident earlier, it ain’t no domestic abuse shit,” he lied angrily. The two cops looked at each other. “Yeah, she fainted and hit her head on the counter, and it’s nobody’s damn business but me and my wife’s.”

“Has she seen a doctor?” the female cop, who’s tag said Reed, spoke up.

Henry glared at her. “What’s it to you, sweetheart?” he scoffed. She glared right back at him.

“We’re going to need to speak to Y/N, Mr. Bowers. Can you go and get her for us?” she insisted. Henry scoffed again and shook his head.

“You two are real thick, ain’tcha? She’s sleeping—”

“Henry?” you called from the bedroom. He felt his heart drop.

“Derry Police, may we come in and speak with you, Mrs. Bowers?” Officer Reed called into the apartment.

“Fuck you, come back with a damn warrant,” Henry spat at them.

He looked back when he saw the police look behind him. You were slowly coming around the door frame, looking pale and dizzy.

“Henry…. what’s going on?” you questioned. The moment you stepped out of the doorway and let go to walk, your eyes fell closed and you fell forward.

“Y/N!” Henry cried, running to you and catching you as you fell. He could hear the police come in, and the female radioed for an ambulance. “No, fuck no, we can’t afford a fuckin’ ambulance!”

“Bowers, you’re gonna need to calm down,” Officer Johnson demanded.

You grabbed onto Henry’s arms and whimpered. “Henry, what’s going on?” you asked him fearfully. Officer Reed moved closer to her partner and whispered something to him. “Baby, the police…”

“They shouldn’t be here. They think I hit you or some shit,” he scoffed, turning red. “I’m serious, you two, outta my fuckin’ house! Come back with a warrant, then we’ll talk!”

“Henry, maybe I should go to the hospital….” you attempted. He looked down at you. “Your Dad did say it was a concussion…”

Damn you for remembering…

“Y/N, we can’t afford a hospital bill, are you kiddin’ me?” he hissed.

“An ambulance is on the way, Ma’am,” Officer Reed assured you.

“Thank you,” you smiled weakly, crying a bit. Henry growled.

“Y/N! Are you fuckin’ stupid, we can’t afford a fuckin’ ambulance!” he screamed at you, shaking you slightly.

You didn’t understand why he was so angry, but the cops didn’t like it, coming to the two of you. Officer Reed came to your side and held you as Officer Johnson pulled a struggling Henry off of you.

“Hey! Don’t you put your hands on me!” Henry cried. You gasped and fell against the female Officer, hearing your kids come out of their room. The Officer quickly looked over as the kids came up near their mother.

“Daddy!” Skylar sobbed. Just as she cried out, Henry felt himself getting handcuffed.

He thrashed around. “This is fuckin’ illegal! You better get these things off’a me!” he yelled.

“Honey?” you whimpered.

“Henry Bowers,” Officer Johnson said calmly. “You’re under arrest.”

“For?!” Henry spat at him.

“Look at your wife’s face.”

Henry looked over at you, at how scared and confused you looked. How sick and weak you were… your face was so bruised… you couldn’t even remember what had happened to yourself… because of him….

“I didn’t do shit,” Henry denied coldly, looking back at the Officer. The partners glanced at each other, then looked at the front door as the paramedics came in.

At this point everyone on your floor was looking outside of their doors, looking in and trying to see what was going on. Henry watched the paramedics lift you up out of Officer Reed’s arms and start putting you on a stretcher.

“Does anyone give a shit that we can’t fuckin’ afford this shit?! Jesus Christ, we ain’t got insurance, I just lost my fuckin’— can y’all stay outta my damn fuckin’ business?!” Henry screamed. He looked out in the hallway. “Seriously?!” Some of the neighbors jumped and closed their apartment doors, while most just closed it partially to continue listening.

“You’re under arrest for domestic violence,” Officer Johnson finally told Henry as he started leading him out the door.

“Domestic violence my ass, get your hands off me!” Henry yelled. “What about my fuckin’ kids?! You’re scarin’ my kids!”

Skylar and Noah were crying next to you, holding your hand as you tried to tell them that everything was going to be okay. The paramedics lifted up the stretcher and the kids let go as they started bringing you downstairs.

Skylar looked at Henry, and turned red. “D-Daddy didn’t do nothin’!” she sobbed to Officer Reed. The officer crouched down so that she was at the little girl’s level.

“Would you like to ride in a police car?” she questioned gently. Both kids looked nervous. “You’re not in trouble, okay? We just need to bring you to the police station to ask you some questions.”

“You don’t answer no questions, you two, okay? You got the right to remain silent, don’t neither’a you say nothin’!” Henry ordered as Officer Johnson started leading him down the stairs. Officer Reed looked at him in annoyance, before looking at the kids with a soft smile.

“Is Mumma gonna be okay?” Skylar asked, looking terrified.

“Your Mommy’s gonna be just fine,” the Officer told her. “Did you two see the accident? When she hit her head?”

“S-Skylar did,” Noah spoke up, almost silently. Skylar sucked in a breath and tensed up.

“Let’s go to the station, we’ll talk more there, okay?” Officer Reed suggested, sensing that the children were getting even more scared. She stood up and called for a second squad car through her radio.

\---

You woke up in a hospital room, and you took a deep breath immediately.

The male officer was outside the door, talking with a male doctor. You started losing focus, your head falling to the side. “Henry?” you whimpered, moving weakly.

The doctor and officer both looked over and quickly came into the room. The doctor looked at your charts quickly then smiled at you gently as he pulled out a small pen light. “Ma’am, can you hear me?” he questioned quietly. You groaned.

“Y-Yes….” you agreed, trying to pick your head up. The doctor grabbed a remote from your side and pressed a button, laying your bed down until you could look at them comfortably.

“Can you tell me your name?” he inquired curiously. You blinked and frowned in confusion.

“Of course, it’s Y/N Bowers….” you told him, not sure why he wouldn’t already have that information.

“Do you know what day it is?” the Doctor pressed.

“Well… last I knew it was…. um… it was Friday…” you started, trying to remember what day you had been in last. “October 17th…?”

“It’s the 18th now,” the Officer explained.

You glanced at her. “Where’s Henry?” you asked worriedly. “And my kids?”

“My partner Officer Reed, and Officer Bowers are with your kids at the station,” he told you calmly. “Your husband… is in a holding cell at the county jail.”

“Why is he locked up, he didn’t…” you started, seeing the doctor blink and look at the Officer. “He didn’t do anything…?”

“Mrs. Bowers, do you actually remember what happened?” the Officer questioned.

“I was about to ask the same question. You’ve got substantial bruising to the upper right portion of your temple and cheek, which goes farther onto your scalp, past the hairline. It’s recent, and clearly some type of blunt force trauma,” the Doctor explained.

“Um…. Henry said I got dizzy and hit my head on the counter,” you told them.

“But you don’t remember that?” the doctor pressed. You blinked and shook your head. “Can you open your eyes a bit more for me, I’m going to shine this light in your eyes quickly and see how you react.” You did as he said, immediately wincing and whimpering from the pain that light caused. “Trauma this bad generally results in brain damage. I need to run a few scans to make sure you aren’t hemorrhaging or swelling.”

“I don’t remember anything…” you admitted. “But… but, I can’t afford a high medical bill… I shouldn’t even be here…”

“I’m glad you are. Because you have a concussion, at least,” the doctor sighed. “And a counter didn’t cause this bruising.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, even more confused.

“Mrs. Bowers, I’m not a forensic medical examiner. But if I had to guess what caused this trauma, I’d have to say it was a fist.”

“What…?” you started. You couldn’t wrap your head around what they were trying to tell you. “I don’t understand, Henry said…. H-Henry said…” Then you understood. “You think he hit me?”

“It would appear so… Officer Johnson would like to speak with you, I’m going to order the scans we need. I’ll be back,” he told you. He stood up and walked quickly out of the room. Officer Johnson looked down at you.

“You don’t remember anything, Mrs. Bowers?” he questioned to clarify. You shook your head carefully. “Your daughter, Skylar, said she saw everything. She told my partner everything.”

“Everything…? What did she see?” you questioned, your heart dropping. The Officer looked sad. “Henry wouldn’t… he loves me…”

“She said she saw your husband hit you twice while he held you by your neck,” the Officer revealed to you. You shook your head slowly. “And the doctor’s point about that bruising being caused by a fist is enough evidence and testimony.”

“Evidence and testimony?” you asked, looking almost angry. “There’s no way that Henry… I mean he hasn’t hit me since….” You thought back to the Summer of 1989, when Henry’s gang had gotten into a rock fight with your brother and his friends… when he had punched you so hard you had blacked out for a moment….

“You don’t have to be afraid, Ma’am. You let us take care of everything for you, he’s looking at at most a year of jail—” the Officer assured you.

“A year?!” you gasped. “You’re putting my husband in jail for— you’re taking my children’s father away from them for an entire year, for what?!”

The Officer hesitated and the doctor came back in. “We’re ready for your scans, Mrs. Bowers,” the doctor told you. You growled in frustration.

“I’m not getting any scans done, you’re releasing me right now!” you demanded. They both looked shocked. “You’re going to take these IVs out of me, you're going to releasing me, and you—” You pointed at the cop. “You’re going to bring me to my children, and someone’s going to go to the county jail and get my husband.”

“Ma’am, I can’t release you in this state,” the Doctor denied. “If there’s internal bleeding or swelling in the brain, you could die.”

You sucked in a breath. “I-I could die?” you realized. “I-It’s that bad?” The doctor nodded. You gulped and took a shaky breath. Henry would be livid if you did anything to raise the hospital bill… but if you might die…. “Fine. Fine, do your scans. But Officer, you’re bringing my children here to be with me, then you’re going to go get my husband so we can all be together.”

“Ma’am,” Officer Johnson said quietly. “Your daughter—”

“My daughter makes things up, she’s terrified, your partner probably made her lie,” you rambled, feeling your face turn red. You just couldn’t believe that Henry would do something this bad to you… “It’s not true, I’m not pressing charges.”

“Well the state is,” he told you. You glared at him. “Where were you when this accident happened, Mrs. Bowers? Were you in the kitchen?”

You frowned and blinked. “No, the living room…” you corrected him. He immediately crossed his arms.

“But your husband said you hit your head on the counter.”

You froze and stared at him. “H-He did…” you started. “He said the… the counter…” You started to feel the pieces falling into place just a little too fast. “H-He must have said it on accident…”

“Your daughter told us he told her and her brother to say that you had an accident in the kitchen,” he admitted. Your mouth fell open as you started crying. “But it was in the living room. He committed obstruction of justice.”

“Henry….” You trailed off as you let it sink in. “I need to see Henry.” The Officer looked at the doctor, who had a nurse with him now. The nurse came into the room with a wheelchair, and started helping you out of the bed and into the chair. She took out your IV carefully, then your heart monitor pads. “Bring me my children, then bring us to Henry.”

“I can have my partner bring the kids here, and get you home. You’ll have to get yourself to him, although I don’t know that you can drive in this state…”

“Absolutely not,” the Doctor agreed. “You can’t operate any vehicles.”

“I need to see him,” you begged as the nurse started wheeling you out of the room.

The Officer ignored you, radioing to the station to have the kids brought to the hospital.

\---

Henry sat on the bench of the holding cell, his knees bouncing anxiously. He hadn’t seen anyone other than the guard by the door for hours, and he was wondering what the hell was taking so long. He was hoping you hadn’t gone into surgery or something expensive like that.

He had expected to see you sooner than this. The clock on the wall read 012:00P, he had been here all fucking night and through the morning. He had slept on this goddamned hard bench, paced around the tiny cell, then sar on the bench and waited.

The door suddenly opened and he stood up when he saw you hurry through. The kids followed close behind, and then his Dad, to his surprise.

“Give us a minute,” Butch told the guard, who nodded, and started going to the desk at the other end of the hall.

“Henry!” you breathed as you rushed over to him. You had your hair covering the bruising as much as you could, but he could still see it. “Baby, are you okay?”

“Fucking hungry. And my back hurts,” he snapped. You looked at him sadly. “Why am I in here, we both know I did nothin’ wrong…”

You stared at him, then looked back at the kids and Butch. “Henry, I didn’t fall and hit my head on the counter, did I?” you asked sadly. He hesitated and glanced back at Skylar. “No, don’t look at her, I’m asking you to tell me the truth.”

He looked at you and licked his lips. “Baby… who told you that?” he questioned.

“The Doctor said the kitchen counter didn’t hurt my head…” you explained.

“And he said I did?!” he hissed. “What a fuckin’ nutjob!”

“Honey, we weren’t even in the kitchen,” you whimpered. Again, he hesitated as he tried to scramble for an excuse. “Just tell me…”

“I— L-Look, it was—” he tried. He gulped and shook his head. “They’re tryin’a turn you against me, Y/N!”

“Henry…”

“They’ve got you thinkin’ I did somethin’ that I didn’t! Look, I was drunk, maybe you hit your head on the coffee table, not the counter, my bad!” Henry rambled. You felt yourself start crying. “I— Baby, Y/N, I-I—”

“Daddy, you should always tell the truth,” Skylar spoke up quietly. You didn’t like how quiet she had been through this whole thing. You were worried, she had witnessed everything, she was probably traumatized.

As if to make it worse, Henry looked passed you and glared at her.

You reached through the bars and touched his cheek, turning his face back towards you. “Henry, I love you… I just want you to tell me what happened. Because I can’t remember, but everything points to… to…”

You couldn’t finish the sentence, taking a shaky breath.

Henry looked at you, then glanced at his Dad. “Why is he here too?” he whispered.

“You know why I’m here,” Butch grumbled. Henry tensed up, and looked at you again.

“Y/N…” he tried quietly. “I wanna talk to just you.”

“Whatever you say to her, it’s going on record,” Butch told him. Henry looked over and glared at him angrily.

“I didn’t do shit,” he denied. He looked at you again, at your sad eyes and your trembling lip. “See what they’ve got you thinkin’? They made you think I gotta be in here!” Butch rolled his eyes, which Henry elected to ignore. “You know I shouldn’t be in here, right, baby? You know I would never… I-I mean, I would never mean to…” He trailed off as you started crying again. “Look even if I did, we can’t afford to have me locked up! You need me, and so do the kids.”

You stared at him. “I know…” you agreed weakly. “Please just tell me.” Henry looked angry now. “I’m not upset, I just… I need to know.”

He shook his head and looked away from you. “You make me so fuckin’ angry, Y/N, you know that? How fuckin’ stupid you are,” he scoffed. You felt yourself turn red and you looked down, he pulled you closer to him, and you turned your head so he could whisper almost silently to you. “I hit you because you disobeyed me. You talked to those faggots even though I told you not to, and you had to pay.”

You looked at him in terror, and he just raised an eyebrow. “Okay…” you said. “Okay, Henry, I understand. I’m sorry…”

“Look at this fuckin’ mess you got us into, Skylar. You lied, and now Daddy’s in jail,” he snapped at his daughter. You hesitated then looked back at her. She looked confused and heartbroken. “You better think twice next time you open your mouth, you hear me? I’m real disappointed in you.”

Skylar started crying, and Noah hugged her quickly and warmly while you tried to decide what to do. “Sky…” you said softly. She looked up at you hopefully. “You have to tell the police the truth. That Daddy didn’t hit me…”

“Mumma,” she tried.

“I remember now, I hit my head on the coffee table, in the living room…” you explained. You looked at Henry, and smiled sadly. “We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? Everything will be okay…”

“You don’t care what the doctor said?” Butch spoke up coldly. You glanced at him then looked down.

“Doctors don’t know what they’re talking about,” Henry snapped at him. “Look at me, I didn’t go to the doctor’s once as a kid, and I’m fine! Yearly checkup my ass, they’re just tryin’a steal our money!”

You just nodded and took his hand. “You’re gonna be home before you know it, Henry. And we can forget about all this… I’m sorry…”

“I know. It’s okay,” he sighed. You nodded and let go of his hand. “Just get me outta here, Y/N.” Again, you nodded, and moved towards the kids, taking each of their hands. “I love you guys, okay? Stay strong, kids, Daddy’s gonna be home soon.”

They both just nodded, and you gulped. “I love you,” you said. He watched you and the kids walk out of the holding area, and looked at his Dad.

“You bastard,” his Dad said. “You have that girl wrapped around your finger. It’s almost impressive.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Henry scoffed. Butch just glared at him. “You called the cops on me, didn’t you. You wanted her all to yourself…”

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Butch said coldly. Henry glared at him. “You ain’t getting outta here for a while. Make yourself comfortable.”

With that his father walked out, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

\---

The trial ended up taking a few weeks, the State of Maine fighting in your defense, while you fought for Henry. No one could understand why you were lying for him, trying to bring him back home.

The truth was, you were afraid to be without him. You loved him, and you couldn’t believe that he would hurt you on purpose. You knew it had been an accident all along, that if he could go back he wouldn’t have hit you.

But what made you feel awful was Skylar. She stopped talking, the weight of her father’s disappointment heavy on her mind. She apologized every time she saw Henry, thinking that she must be crazy, that if Mom and Dad were saying he hadn’t hit her, that he must not have, she must have been seeing things…

You didn’t know she felt this way, though. All you knew is that she wasn’t her usual happy, boisterous self. And it worried you.

Within the month of Henry’s arrest, you broke the lease with your apartment complex, and moved in with Butch, knowing that you couldn’t afford it any other way. He let you keep your extra belongings in the barn, while each of you had one suitcase of clothes. The three of you slept in Henry’s old bedroom, you on an extra mattress on the floor, while the kids slept in the bed.

Of course, most nights you slept with Butch.

He put Skylar and Noah right to work, forcing Noah to tend to the pigs and fields with him, while Skylar stayed inside all day cleaning. You had waited a week for your bruising to heal a bit, then had found a job at the diner downtown, managing to get a pretty good schedule early in the morning into the afternoon everyday. It paid enough to pay Butch his $300 every month.

It was agonizing not being able to see your kids for most of the day, but it was all you could do to try to save money to get them out of Butch’s house.

Henry was absolutely livid about how long it was taking to get a result. The evidence against him was so strong, that things weren’t looking good, but you had promised him he would come home and you weren’t giving up. You didn’t have a lawyer, you only had yourself to defend him. You didn’t feel comfortable forcing Skylar to lie for him, but you would lie. You would do anything for your husband.

“Henry Bowers, as you’re aware, the evidence against you points to a case of domestic violence assault. You’re looking at up to a year for this crime alone, let’s not forget attempts to mislead investigators, or obstructing justice,” the judge said tiredly. Everyone knew how the trial was going to end, except that you foolishly kept up hope, sitting on the bench behind Henry as he sat angrily, slightly hunched over, glaring at the judge. “It’s time to hear your plea, Bowers.”

“Not guilty,” he snapped. Everyone in the courtroom mumbled to each other, and you held onto the railing in front of you.

“Fine. Will the jury read it’s final verdict?” the Judge continued.

A woman in the jury stands stood up, and cleared her throat. “We find the defendant guilty of all counts against him,” she announced. You burst into tears and Henry looked back at you angrily.

“Henry Bowers the jury finds you guilty on all counts against you, including domestic violence assault, misleading investigators, and obstructing justice. I sentence you to serve one year in the Maine State Prison—”

You sobbed loudly and jumped when Henry snapped at you to shut up.

“Then 8 months probation, case closed,” the Judge finished coldly, standing up and leaving the court room along with the jury.

The Officer in charge of Henry stood him up, and you got up as well, starting to follow them. “Henry, baby—” you cried.

“Y/N, I said shut up,” he hissed at you. You stopped and watched him get escorted out of the courtroom.

“Mumma, Daddy’s goin’a jail?” Skylar whimpered. You couldn’t even look at her.

“Yes, Sky. Daddy’s going to jail,” you agreed. She sobbed and hugged you.

“Come on,” Butch ordered, pushing you gently towards the door as Sky clinged onto you, and Noah tried to hold in his tears, afraid that his grandfather would hurt him.

You didn't know, but Butch had beaten both Noah and Skylar for disobeying him, or crying. He made it very clear to Noah that Bowers boys didn’t cry by whipping his back with his belt.

As the four of you walked out of the courtroom and out to Butch’s truck, he started rubbing your lower back coyly. Noah and Skylar got into the back of the truck silently, and you climbed into the passenger seat, staring into space. Butch got into the drivers seat and looked you up and down.

“Relax, honey,” he demanded. You looked over at him. “I got wine for you at home. The kids got chores to do, so I can make you feel loads better…”

You trembled, feeling his hand rest on your thigh as he drove you all back to the farm. He put the kids right to work, and pushed you inside. Skylar watched as she scrubbed some dishes as her mother was shoved over and over again towards the back of the house.

“Butch, I can’t right now—” you tried fighting against him.

“You wanna be on the streets?” he pointed out coldly. You sobbed and Skylar watched her grandfather grab your hair and drag you out of view into the hallway. All she could hear was your sobbing, then she jumped as Butch’s bedroom door slam closed.

She didn’t understand what was happening, but Skylar was afraid that you were going to be hurt again. On one hand, she wanted to get help, but on the other hand… Daddy was in jail because of her…

So she elected to cry quietly as you and her grandfather made weird noises in his bedroom. At first she could hear you crying and whimpering, but soon the noises you made started becoming soft and strained. And as Butch started making noises too, Skylar couldn’t even imagine what was going on.

When you both came out later, your hair looked crazy and you were wearing a nightgown like you did when you snuck out of the room late at night. You always hoped that Skylar and Noah were sleeping, but they weren’t. None of you really slept anymore….

Just as you came out, Noah came inside, looking exhausted and sad. He was covered in mud and pig shit, and he almost started sobbing but he quickly gulped back the tears. “The work’s all done, Grampa…”

“Yeah. Shoes off in the house,” Butch grumbled, coming up behind you and starting to rub your shoulders. You looked at Noah, then at Skylar quickly, then looked down, feeling defeated. “Go get in the shower, boy.”

Noah took off his boots and hurried towards the bathroom. Skylar kept scrubbing the dishes, and as she turned the water on, Butch let go of you and moved to shut it off.

“Your brother’s takin’ a shower, have some respect and save some water for him,” he snapped. You looked over as Skylar looked up fearfully at her grandfather.

“I’m sorry, Grandpa,” she whimpered.

“Go finish foldin’ the laundry, will you? Me and Mommy are gonna hang out in the kitchen….” he explained, waving his hand towards you to motion for you to come over. You obeyed, walking past your daughter silently as she ran away to do the laundry. Butch turned to the liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of wine for you and a wine glass. You gulped, remembering a year of drowning yourself in wine to numb the pain…. it seemed like it was going to be another year of drowning.

“Butch…” you said softly as you watched him pour you a glass of wine. He slid it over to you carefully, and you stared at it. “I-I can’t…”

“Drink, Y/N,” he said calmly. But it was an order.

So you took the glass, and did as you were told.


End file.
